Seeking Salvation
by SweetFaith06
Summary: NOW COMPLETE -- When Tim and Rachel try to flee Worthington Hall, they come to the horrifying discovery that Trask is not willing to give Rachel up... Tim x Rachel x Trask
1. The Plan

**A/N**: The beginning segment is a dream that Rachel is having, so please don't get TOO confused… ;0)

**CH 1: The Plan**

_"But I don't _want_ to play the prisoner today! How come you always get to play the pirate?"_

_Young Timothy Shaw grinned a broad, half toothless grin, his hands hitching up his breeches with authority as he returned, "'Cause I'm older than you, that's why! Besides, who ever heard of a _girl_ being a pirate?"_

_"I'll bet there were plenty of girls!" tiny Rachel Drummond shot back, her lips drawing into a pout as she folded her arms. "Who _else_ would all those boy pirates marry? They need wives!"_

_"Not if they're anything like you" Tim teased, a delighted grin splitting his lips upon noticing her outrage._

_"Tim, I'm going to tell Reverend Trask on you!" Rachel whined. "You'll be sorry for treating me like a girl!"_

_"But you _are_ a girl!" Tim insisted with a laugh. "Golly, Rachel, you've got cooties for brains!"_

_"I-I do not!"_

_"Do, too!"_

_"Do _not!"

_Grinning, Tim held his hands up in surrender before agreeing, "Alright, alright, you don't have cooties for brains…_if_ you're not the last person to reach that tree!"_

_Without warning, Tim took off for the random destination, Rachel giving a squeal of protest as she went racing after him with the grace of an elephant on skates. Jumping over rocks and jutting tree roots, she nearly toppled over amidst her frantic pursuit of her long-legged friend, her voice breathy and desperate as she wheezed, "Tim…slow…down! I-I can't…keep up!"_

_"We've got to go, Rachel!" he called frantically over his shoulder._

_"What?" Suddenly stopping, Rachel gave him a perplexed look before asking, "Why must we go, Tim? What are you talking about?"_

_Frustrated, Tim turned around before hissing, "Rachel, we've got to go, _now!"

_"Huh?"_

"Rachel!"

With a gasp, the young beauty lurched up in bed, a strong hand coming over her mouth in order to prevent her from crying out.

"Shh" a voice gently whispered, "it's alright Rachel, it's just me…"

"Tim?" Gazing up at her friend in bewilderment, the governess demanded, "W-what are you doing here? It's not even dawn, yet!"

"We have to go" Tim revealed, his dark eyes softening as he fondly took her hand in his. "My friend Riggs got me a train ticket to Boston, but I told him I'd be damned if I left you behind. I couldn't do it, Rachel…I couldn't leave my best friend."

Feeling tears coming to her eyes, Rachel touched his cheek before demanding, "Why did you do that, Tim? I know every second under this school's roof is torture for you, so why did you wait?"

"Rachel, I _told_ you why, I just…"

"But what's the _real_ reason?" she pressed. "Why didn't you try taking one of the children with you, instead? I can't leave Nora and Jamison behind with these monsters!"

Frustrated, Tim broke away from her as if he'd been burned, his eyes closing as he insisted, "Rachel, you know I care about them as much as you do, but they at least have a way out – _we_ do not. Trask has no hold over them and he isn't brandishing threats in their faces, so aside from the inevitable fear, I assure you that they'll be completely safe. I've arranged for their parents to stop by tomorrow evening for an evaluation, so after seeing how distraught Nora and Jamison are, I'm sure they'll be taken home immediately." Now turning back to face the governess, Tim got down on his knees before urging, "Come with me, Rachel…_please._ It may be our only chance to escape."

Biting her lip, Rachel finally nodded before agreeing, "Y-yes, alright, but what's going to happen from here? Were you able to get two tickets?"

Tim nodded. "Yes, yes I was… So we won't arouse any suspicion, I want you to leave first whenever we follow through with our morning routines. While I grade Nora and Jamison's papers, you grab your belongings and sneak out the back where Riggs will be waiting. The train doesn't leave until 9:30, so after about fifteen minutes I'll leave the kids and sneak out while the Trasks are having breakfast." Giving Rachel's hand a comforting squeeze, he added, "Do you understand?"

She nodded. "Yes, of course I do, Tim, but please just promise me one thing: I need for you to be careful. I don't want to lose you…"

His gaze softening, Tim took her by the arms before insisting, "I'm not going to die, Rachel – I promise that I'll be with you to the very end." Pressing a warm kiss against her forehead, he added, "Try to get some sleep, alright? You're going to need your strength."

"Yes, alright…goodnight, Tim." As Rachel watched her friend leave, she slowly reclined back amidst her covers and pulled them up to her chin. Being a natural-born worrier, she was well aware of the fact that sleep wasn't going to come easy…

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

With her belongings in hand and a knit shawl about her shoulders, Rachel stood timidly beside Riggs on the train station platform. Noticing him checking his pocket watch for the umpteenth time, she took him by the arm before demanding, "What time is it, and _why_ hasn't Tim made it here yet? The station's only half a mile away from Worthington Hall!"

Relinquishing himself of her grasp, Riggs ran his knuckles through his beard before grumbling, "Missus, jus' relax! Tim told me he'd be here, an' he ain't no liar…you jus' calm yerself down an' get a hold a' yerself!"

"B-but the conductor called for everyone to board five minutes ago!" Rachel frantically persisted. "If he doesn't get here shortly, he'll miss the train!"

Riggs shrugged. "He told me that if he was detained I was ta make sure ya got onboard. If he don't get here soon, you jus' march your pretty lil' self up ta that train, ya hear?"

_"No!"_ Rachel stubbornly argued. "Tim said he wouldn't leave me behind, and I'm not going to leave him, either! If he doesn't get here in time, I'm not going to go to Boston!"

Sighing, Riggs reflected on how this was exactly why he wasn't married, his mouth opening in order to speak just as a familiar presence made itself known on the platform.

Backing away with a horrified gasp, Rachel turned her back on the abhorred reverend with the hopes of finding that it was all just a terrible dream. When she felt his cold and clammy hand on her shoulder, she realized that her hopes were not going to come true.

"Good morning, my dear Rachel" Trask greeted in his distinctively smug manner. "I see that you are intending to take a trip – may I ask where?"

Feeling tears streaming down her cheeks, Rachel shook her head before sobbing, "Oh, _please_ do not torture me this way…I know you are angry, so I beg you to just punish me now!"

"All in good time, my dear" Trask acknowledged, "but it would seem that the good Lord has already taken the liberty of punishing you for me."

Rachel eyed him fearfully. "W-what do you mean by that?"

Reaching into his breast coat pocket in answer, Trask unearthed a soiled handkerchief and held it up for the governess' ever-curious gaze to see. "This, my dear, is your punishment" he revealed with a cruel smirk.

"A soiled hanky?" Rachel questioned, completely bewildered. "I-I'm afraid that I don't understand…"

"I figured that would be your foolish response" Trask admitted, "but I suppose you cannot be held responsible for your tremendous naiveté." Walking about her in a meditative circle, Trask held the handkerchief up at waist level before sustaining, "It is quite a pity that you cannot even recognize the insignia of your own dear friend…do the initials TCM honestly mean nothing to you?"

Feeling a chill seep amidst her blood stream, Rachel trembled before demanding, "W-what have you done to Tim?"

"Me? Why nothing, my dear child" Trask assured her with a chuckle. "It would appear that Tim tried escaping earlier this morning, but my hired help spotted him sneaking out on the veranda. Knowing how you two are never to leave, the good Lord blessed him with the strength and courage to retrieve his pistol, hunt Mr. Shaw down, and smite him like the dirty dog he was."

_"No!"_ Rachel sobbed, "No, it's not true…you're _lying!"_

Trask couldn't help but laugh. "Am I, my dear? If you had taken a closer look, you would've realized that this hanky is soiled with _blood,_ not grime, and that the blood is Mr. Shaw's. We attempted to staunch the flow just long enough to find your whereabouts, but the wicked soul refused to say anything up to his dying breath. Fortunately for me, I searched his body and found his train ticket, and now…" He smiled malevolently. "…and now I've found _you."_

**A/N**: Whew, fun stuff! I just finished making a Rachel/Tim music video, so I was able to get reacquainted with the characters of 1897. Let me just tell you that my love for Rachel/Tim has been completely rekindled, and I think Rachel's officially my favorite KLS character. I really wish that she hadn't left, because I honestly think she and Tim would've eventually become a couple. :( But anywhos, this isn't the last chapter – I know things might seem a little confusing right now, but I promise it'll all be explained in the next chapter! Er…hopefully! ;0P


	2. Finding Answers

**A/N**: Whew, another chapter up and running! This took me longer than I thought it would, yet it was still SO much fun:)

**CH 2: Finding Answers**

"Ah, home sweet home…wouldn't you agree, Miss Drummond?"

"I'm not speaking to you" Rachel hissed, tears stinging along her lashes as she hugged herself for support. "I don't know why you felt the need to do what you did, but it was nothing short of cruel! I will _never_ forgive you!"

His hazel eyes hardening, Trask whirled her around before snapping, "You would do best to respect me, Miss Drummond, for I am leading you away from your own eternal damnation! In so doing, I am taking the risk of tarnishing my own soul, yet here you stand and denounce me? You are a wicked, _wicked_ girl, Miss Drummond!"

"I am _not_ wicked!" Rachel shot back, her blood boiling over the audacity of his words. "If anyone in this Godforsaken residence is wicked, Reverend Trask, it's _you!"_ Before she even had time to think, his palm came across her face in a resounding smack, her eyes watering as she turned her back on him and placed a hand to her cheek. Although she felt the tears, she absolutely refused to give him the satisfaction of crying, for she knew that that was what he wanted.

"Ah, my poor, foolish Rachel" Trask crooned, his calloused hand caressing its way along the nape of her neck. "Why do you insist upon being such a foolhardy and headstrong girl? If you were to behave and denounce your evil ways, I wouldn't have to punish you the way I do."

Shuddering, Rachel squirmed free of his grasp before hurriedly striding across the room, her eyes concentrating solely on the blackboard as she returned, "Perhaps I deserve my punishment, Reverend Trask, but Tim most certainly did not. You took away the one person I cared about most in this world, and because of that none of your punishments can ever make me weep, again."

Trask snorted in disdain. "Mr. Shaw knew very well what he was getting himself into, my dear girl, and for that he deserved nothing short of what he received. It would be in your best interest to forget him, lest you follow in his footsteps."

"And how can I forget him when you haven't even let me say goodbye?" Rachel demanded, her ire only mounting as she finally turned to face him. "Just let me see his body, Reverend Trask…all I ask is a few minutes alone with him."

"Most certainly not!"

"But why? It's such a simple request!"

Scowling, Trask narrowed his eyes before returning, "His very presence may further corrupt your soul, and I will not allow it! I have worked far too hard on your eternal essence to let his spirit consume you as before!"

"But I _need_ to see him!" Rachel wailed. "Don't you understand? He was the one person who made my stay in this miserable prison bearable – I can't just let him go without saying goodbye!"

Striking her yet again, Trask barked, "You hold your tongue! If it weren't for me, you'd be out in the streets!"

"If it weren't for _you,_ Tim would still be alive and we'd both be able to think for ourselves!"

Now no longer to forfend the tears, Rachel placed her head in her hands and began to sob, her reverie being torn apart the moment Trask seized her by the shoulders and began to shake her. "You ungrateful little tart!" he growled, giving her yet another shake for good measure. "It seems that all my years of hard work need to be reinforced, for your time spent away from Worthington Hall has diluted your sense of character! Fortunately for you, Miss Drummond, I feel nothing short of compassion for your case and am willing to give you a less severe punishment than usual."

"L-less severe?" Rachel reiterated, clearly disbelieving his word.

Smirking at her apprehension, Trask assured her, "Why yes, my dear, I wouldn't _dream_ of making you feel as if you're living in a prison – that _is_ what you claimed earlier, correct?" Before Rachel could even reply, he seized her by the arm while adding, "I believe a few hours in the closet will rectify this dilemma…come with me, Miss Drummond."

"No!" Rachel wailed, "oh, _please_ don't…I'm not a child any longer!"

"Perhaps not" Trask agreed, "but like a child, my dear Rachel, you still have a _lot_ to learn…"

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

With a sound cough, Tim fully awoke from his injury-induced sleep and gazed about him, his eyes blinking with the hopes of discovering his whereabouts.

Wincing, he could feel the rope about his wrists continuing to bite into his skin, a familiar chill greeting his senses once he finally realized where he was: the basement of Worthington Hall.

"Ya fin'ly awake, Tim?"

Jumping at the sound of the greeter's voice, Tim squinted amidst the darkness before questioning, "Riggs, is that you?"

"Aye, sir."

"What are you doing here?" Shaking his head, Tim decided aloud, "Never mind, it doesn't matter – just get over here and cut me loose before Trask shows up!"

Riggs gave him a sorrowful look before returning, "I'm real sorry, Tim, but I can't do nothin' for ya no more – I work for Trask, now."

_"What!?"_ Feeling his temper flare, Tim tugged at his bindings before growling out, "How could you do this to me, Riggs? I thought we were friends!"

"Aye, a' 'course we are, Tim" he assured the tutor, "but I'se gots a wife 'n kids ta feed – Trask offered me a job if I'd help 'im get Rachel back ta Worthington Hall."

Tim gave Riggs a pained look. "Rachel? You mean…she didn't escape?"

"Aye, 'fraid not, sir – I like ya both, Tim, honest ta God I do, but I couldn't let me family down, again."

No longer seeming to hear him, Tim squeezed his eyes tightly closed before bowing his head in despair. Rachel…she'd been brought back to this monstrous place, and for what? Was she being punished as badly as he was?

Raising his gaze to Riggs', Tim noticeably trembled as he demanded, "Why did you sell us out, Riggs? _Why!?_ I can accept the fact that you need to take care of your family, but why did you have to turn in Rachel? You could've helped her escape!"

"If I'd a' known how much she meant ta ya, I mighta tried" Riggs sorrowfully admitted. "We've been friends for a good while now, Tim, butcha never once mentioned havin' a lover hidin' away somewhere, so how was I suppose ta know?"

"She's not my lover, she's…my friend" Tim mumbled, his eyes softening over the memories that he and Rachel had shared amidst the thrall of Reverend Trask. "She was probably the first true friend I ever had, Riggs, so you've got to promise me that you'll do everything in your power to help her."

Riggs blanched. "B-but Tim, I-"

_"Please"_ he urged. "Please just make sure that she's properly taken care of."

"My, my, my, pretending to be the hero again, are we, Mr. Shaw?"

Gasping, Tim turned his head just in time to see Reverend Trask, his eyes narrowing as he demanded, "Why have you taken me here? A civil talk amongst men would've worked far better than the blow you dealt over my head."

"You seem to be forgetting that you are no civil man, my dear Mr. Shaw – the action I took was completely necessary" Trask crisply reminded him. "Because of our run-in, I was lead to the lamb who is still in as much dire need of my assistance as before. Once I am through with Miss Drummond, she will no longer be weak enough to be taken in by your wiles, my dear boy."

Tim paled. "Rachel…what have you done with her? Is she alright?!"

"Well, of _course_ she is!" Trask scoffed. "Have you forgotten that Worthington Hall is a great house of love?"

His eyes narrowing, Tim coolly returned, "If that's true, why don't you tell that to the scars your ruler inflicted upon my knuckles? Or better yet, why don't you tell that to _Rachel,_ the girl you tried to take advantage of in your office those many years ago?"

Trask felt his eyes bulge in indignation. _"Lies!"_ Seizing Tim by the lapels of his coat, he hissed, "You must learn to purify the unadulterated filth that comes forth from your lips, Mr. Shaw, lest they be the last words you ever speak!"

"Are you, a man of God, threatening my life?" Tim demanded, a slight smile slipping across his lips with his words. "I don't think the authorities would be too appreciative to hear of your dark intentions."

"Nor they of yours" Trask snapped. "It doesn't take too long for you to forget your place here, does it, Mr. Shaw? It is not wise to test my patience when I hold the keys to your freedom."

Tim scowled. "How many times must I tell you that I didn't kill anybody!? I didn't go anywhere near your wife's brother that night!"

"And how many times must I tell _you_ that the Almighty frowns upon liars? We must pray for your eternal soul…" Raising his arms up into the air, Trask closed his eyes and pressed his palms together as Tim scornfully watched on.

"Don't waste your breath, Trask…my soul's no longer in your hands."

His eyes snapping abruptly open, Trask turned on Tim in an instant, his cruel features only hardening as he hissed, "It is an absolute miracle as to why my darling Charity still has feelings for you, Mr. Shaw, but she has seen to it that your pathetic life be spared. It is _she_ who saved you, not I, so it would be in your best interest to treat her with respect when she comes calling."

Tim winced. "Charity? But I don't want…"

"You _will_ see my daughter, and you _will_ marry her…there is no other choice!" Trask barked. Now turning to Riggs, he added, "See to it that Mr. Shaw is given the proper provisions – when I return, he had better be in a good mood."

"Aye, sir."

As Trask stalked back upstairs, Riggs sorrowfully turned toward Tim before wondering what on earth he had gotten himself into.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Weary and a little hungry, Rachel continued to sit upon the old and rickety stool in the closet. Now more than ever she pitied the children, for if anything, it seemed that Trask had actually grown worse with age. He was still as boorish as ever, of course, only now he seemed to retain a sense of vile bitterness. But bitterness of _what?_

Sighing, Rachel ran her hand along the tally marks engraved into the wooden walls, her eyes softening as she thought of the poor child who had been desperate enough to make those marks. They would've been punished by Trask for certain, yet they had been in desperate need of something to pass the time.

_'Just like me'_ she thought, _'and just like Tim…'_

In accordance with this notion, a loud creak sounded from the opposite side of the door, Rachel releasing a sharp cry of surprise as it swung open in order to reveal a dark and shadowed figure.

"H-hello?" Rachel questioned timidly. "Reverend Trask, is that you?"

Instead of receiving a direct reply, Rachel scrunched her brows as the figure held out a black gloved hand and beckoned her forward.

For some odd reason, Rachel no longer felt afraid, her features relaxing as she abandoned her position on the stool and began to follow the figure out into the classroom. On one of the roll top desks laid a very pretty vase, the cloaked being reaching inside its interior before unearthing a worn, very old-looking key. Holding out its hand, it then placed the key into Rachel's palm before motioning the governess onward.

Confused, but surprisingly not averse to following the figure, Rachel allowed the mystery person to lead her out into the hallway where a narrow, padlocked door laid in waiting.

"The basement" she breathed, now turning to the spirit in surprise. "I-I don't understand…what could I possibly need to find down here?"

When the figure wordlessly pointed toward the door, Rachel grasped the key in between her fingers and slowly approached the lock…

**A/N**: Alrighties, hopefully I can get the next chapter out faster than this one came to mind…hope you enjoyed! ;)


	3. Captain Redbeard and Lady Grey

CH 3: Captain Redbeard and Lady Grey

**CH 3: Captain Redbeard and Lady Grey**

Obeying the hooded figure, Rachel cautiously descended the staircase into the murky darkness below. She had never been permitted to enter the basement before, but the other children had always regaled her with stories of spirits masquerading about in the shadows.

Desperately wishing that she had a light, Rachel reached the foot of the stairs before turning back around, her eyes widening in astonishment once she realized that the figure was nowhere to be found. "H-hello?" she choked out. "Where have you gone, kind stranger? Why won't you show yourself?"

In answer, a large hand came down on her shoulder, Rachel releasing a blood-curdling scream as the hand then clamped its way over her mouth. "Sshh" the figure hissed, "it's jus' me, Miss Drummond…it's Riggs."

"Riggs?" Slowly backing away from him, she demanded, "What are you doing down here? I thought Reverend Trask offered you a servant's position…"

Riggs swallowed. "Aye, he did, b-b-but I'se supposed ta be down here 'cause this is where I'll be sleepin'."

"In the _basement?"_ Rachel questioned, clearly disbelieving his story. "There are several rooms upstairs for servants, so I don't understand why you would be sent down here – I think you're lying to me for whatever reason, and I'd like to know why that is!"

As Riggs floundered for a response, there came a pained groan from the far side of the room, Rachel gasping as she exclaimed, "There's someone down here with you!"

"Wha? Oh no, Miss Drummond, there ain't nobody here but me an' some rats…it's jus' a lil' noisy down here, that's all, an'…oy!" Watching on in horror, Riggs tried to stop Rachel, but she had already begun rushing over in the direction of the noise, his eyes closing in defeat the moment he heard her horrified gasp.

"Wh-who are you?" Rachel demanded, her eyes squinting to see as she continued to behold the outline of a weary, masculine figure. Taking a tentative step forward, she urged, "Please tell me…I-I promise I'm not going to hurt you…"

"Rachel?" the figure croaked.

Her eyes widening, the governess felt as if all the color had drained from her cheeks, tears forming along her lashes as she breathlessly entreated, _"Tim?_ Is it really you?"

Before the figure could even respond, she tearfully raced forward and embraced him, her lips raining kisses of joy across his face as she sobbed, "Oh, Tim, I thought I'd lost you – Reverend Trask said you were dead!"

"Yes, he _would_ say that, wouldn't he?" Tim bitterly observed. "If it were up to him, I daresay I'd be dead by now…he claims that Charity is to thank for my survival."

"Your survival?" Rachel reiterated, still clearly a tad flustered. "I-I don't even understand why Reverend Trask is holding you down here in the first place…what is he trying to accuse you of this time?"

Tim couldn't help but smirk. "Surprisingly nothing, but I'm sure that with time he'll be able to come up with a charge or two."

"Don't you dare make jokes, Tim – don't you realize how serious this is? Reverend Trask told me you were dead, so what's to keep him from following through with his lie?" When Tim remained pensively silent, Rachel placed a hand over his before urging, "Let me talk to him…perhaps I can persuade him to overlook any punishment he might be planning."

"No!"

Stunned, both Tim and Rachel turned to look at the tremulant Riggs, beads of sweat rolling down his cheeks as he reiterated, "No, ma'am…i-if ya want Tim ta survive, ya gotta pretend thatcha know nothin' 'bout 'im bein' down 'ere. As far as I know, Trask ain't got no plans ta harm Tim, but if ya go beggin' 'im ta spare 'is life, he might change 'is mind."

Slowly rising from off the floor, Rachel accused, "You're working with him, aren't you? You know what plans he has for Tim!"

"No, no, I swear it!" Riggs moaned. "Jus' lea'me alone, ma'am…I'd never do nothin' ta hurt Tim, an' ya gotta believe that!"

"If you're his friend, you will help me untie him" Rachel stubbornly acknowledged, a cry escaping her lips the moment the servant stopped her from doing so. Staring up at him in surprise, she demanded, "What are you doing? Let me go!"

"If Trask sees thatcha've been messin' with 'im, he'll be sure ta know what's been goin' on!" Riggs hissed. "I know it'll be hard for ya, ma'am, butcha've gotta trust me an' leave 'im here."

"Tied up and without food? Most certainly not!"

"Ma'am, _please!"_

Looking from Riggs, to Tim, then back to Riggs again, Rachel sighed before acknowledging, "Can I at least come back here tonight to give him something to eat? I highly doubt Reverend Trask is feeding him properly, let alone at all."

"Aye, I suppose that'd be alright" Riggs agreed. "Jus' be careful nobody sees ya, ya hear?"

Rachel nodded. "Don't worry, Riggs – I've already lost Tim once today, and I'll be damned if I lose him, again."

000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

"Rachel, have you ever been in love?"

Looking up from her grading book in surprise, Rachel turned toward Charity before inquiring, "I beg your pardon, Miss Trask…did you just ask if I'd ever been in love?"

"Why, yes!" Charity returned as if it were obvious. "You _are_ a woman, are you not? I merely wanted to affirm that my feelings for Timothy are the real thing."

Scowling, Rachel glanced back down at her grading book with a twinge of jealousy, for she _had_ been in love – or at least, she _thought_ she had – but she now knew that her attachment to Barnabas Collins had been nothing but a mere infatuation. He'd been the first man to pay romantic attention to her in her life, so she supposed it only natural to have developed feelings for him, no matter how slight they now were.

Realizing that she still hadn't answered Charity's question, Rachel shook her head before acknowledging, "Love is for romantic fools, Miss Trask. The only person women should ever let into their hearts are themselves, for that way they can never be hurt."

Lifting her tea to her lips, Charity remarked, "You speak as though you're a woman scorned, Miss Drummond – must you be so bitter over my happiness? I would gladly express jocundity if it were _you_ in my position."

"Indeed?" Rachel inquired, clearly disbelieving her statement. Sighing as she closed her grading book, she set it off to the side before sustaining, "You'll have to forgive me for not wishing to speak of my love life, Miss Trask, but I'm sure that your father would agree with me in the sense that it's most improper to do so."

Charity pursed her lips. "You make an excellent point, Miss Drummond – Father would expect me to concentrate on the school, not on my betrothed."

Suddenly realizing that Charity must not be in on Trask's plan, Rachel feigned a look of concern before inquiring, "My goodness, Miss Trask, has no one told you? At first I thought you were referring to Tim in the present tense to appear strong, but now I am beginning to worry…"

"Worry? W-whatever do you mean?" Charity demanded. "No one would've told me what?"

Placing a hand to her cheek, Rachel managed to grow tearful as she pitifully acknowledged, "It pains me very much to tell you this, Miss Trask, but it would seem that Tim was killed yesterday by one of the servants. Why else do you think I came back after trying to run away?"

"No…" Growing horribly pale, Charity leapt up to her feet before screaming, "No, no, _no!_ You're lying…I _know_ you are!"

With her skirts rustling about her legs, the blonde ripped open the door before wailing, "Father…_Father!_ Oh, _please_ come quickly!"

There was a pause, then the heavy slapping of boots sounded against the wooden flooring, Trask appearing breathlessly in the doorway as he demanded, "What has happened, my child? Is there an emergency with the school!?"

Ignoring his selfish questions, Charity burst into tears before moaning, "Oh, Father, tell me it isn't true…_please_ tell me that my Timothy isn't dead!"

"What the devil are you talking about?" Sending Rachel a scathing glare, Trask sternly insisted, "Mr. Shaw is assisting me with the children in the north wing – if you do not believe me, I will ask him to join us for dinner tonight as proof."

"Oh, Father, I…"

"Hold your tongue! Senseless blather and mute idiocy are both sins, so I suggest you find a sound medium" Trask cruelly snapped, his hazel eyes growing cold as he once more fixed them upon Rachel. "Miss Drummond, I would like to have a word with you, if you please."

Helplessly watching Charity egress the room, Rachel thought of calling out to her, but instead managed to inquire, "What is it I can do for you, Reverend Trask?"

Closing the door, Trask scowled before demanding, "What gave you the right to inform my daughter of Mr. Shaw's death?"

"W-well nothing, I suppose, but I couldn't just let her keep believing a lie!" Rachel insisted. "In fact, I was rather surprised to find that no one had told her, considering how she is his intended."

Folding his hands as if in prayer, Trask glanced upward before revealing, "I thank God in Heaven for delivering you to me, Miss Drummond, for a lesser man would have tired of your insolence long ago. By the powers vested in me, I promise that I shall rid you of your wickedness and return you to good faith."

Thoroughly insulted, Rachel argued, "With all due respect, Reverend Trask, I don't think a man who has lied should be preaching to his victim. You told a falsehood about Tim, and I demand to know why!"

"You demand a whole lot, don't you, Miss Drummond?" Trask coldly observed. "If I weren't feeling such compassion for you at the moment, I would teach you a lesson."

"O-on what?"

"On how a woman wrapped up in herself makes a small package…think it over, won't you?"

Frowning, Rachel remarked defiantly, "I could easily say that the same goes for men, Reverend Trask – one man in particular is coming to mind at the moment."

Furious, Trask seized Rachel by the arm before growling out, "You're very cheeky tonight, aren't you, Miss Drummond? Perhaps we should remedy your sharp tongue with a night spent in the attic!"

Fearfully shaking her head, Rachel recalled how frightening and lonely the attic had been as a child, tears forming along her lashes as she begged, "Oh, Reverend Trask, _please_ don't lock me away up there – surely as an adult I don't need these childish punishments!"

"You are right" Trask coolly agreed, "one night isn't nearly enough – with your wicked soul, we'd better make it double."

Gasping, Rachel moved to argue, yet she knew it was for naught, her head bowing once he motioned for her to follow.

000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

Leading Rachel into the dank recesses of the attic, Trask shone his light about before remarking, "For the next couple days, you shall remain up here lest I deem your lesson learned. You will only be given this lamp that I hold, and possibly one meal of your choice; that, of course, shall depend entirely on your progress."

Holding herself for warmth, Rachel nodded once as her affirmation, her hand reaching out in order to accept the lamp as she miserably lowered her gaze to the floor. Although she didn't want Trask to win, she couldn't help but be frightened. The dark corners of the room symbolized all that was traumatizing to her as a child, and with each moment that passed, she truly felt as if some creature were waiting for her to let her guard down.

As she watched Trask leave, Rachel sank to her knees and spread her skirts about her in a billowy blanket of blue, her eyes softening once she spotted a lone piece of chalk by her foot. It had clearly been used to keep a miserable child sane, for chalk bunnies could be seen on various parts of the walls. Somehow they made the room seem less frightening and more like home.

Suddenly remembering a ritual that she and Tim had practiced as children, Rachel picked up the chalk and began to draw a circle around herself. While inside the circle, she knew no harm could come to her; Tim had promised her this when she'd revealed to him how frightened she was of the dark. They had naturally been scolded for "vandalizing private property", but it had all been worth it since she'd spent the night quite peacefully.

Curling up into a ball, Rachel hugged her knees and tried to stay warm. The rainstorm was beginning to seep in through the cracks and splatter the floorboards, but the governess paid it little mind since all she could think of was the children. Had they spent many a restless night in this attic as well?

Sighing, Rachel moved to close her eyes, but a soft creak of the lifting trapdoor caught her attention. Believing it to be Reverend Trask, Rachel nearly leapt to her feet in surprise the moment she heard a familiar voice sing:

"Was you ever in Quebec, bonny laddie, hieland laddie? Stowing timber on the deck, bonny highland laddie? Hey ho, and away we go, bonny laddie, hieland laddie, hey ho, and away we go, bonnie hieland laddie…"

Laughing as she finally saw Tim's welcome figure coming towards her, Rachel warmly joined in, "Was you ever in Merashee, where you stayed fast to a tree? Was you ever in Baltimore dancing on that sanded floor? Was you ever in Balville Bay where the girls all go? Hey ho, and away we go, bonny laddie, hieland laddie, hey ho, and away we go, bonnie hieland laddie!"

Grinning as he sat down by Rachel, Tim placed a hand on her knee before revealing, "As soon as I heard what happened with Trask, I figured you needed to hear one of our old sea shanties. They kept us sane before, so I thought I'd come by and cheer you up."

"Oh, Tim…" Shaking her head, Rachel softly argued, "You shouldn't be here – Reverend Trask will be furious if he finds out…"

"He won't" Tim insisted with a wave of his hand. "As children I was always the nimble pirate, remember? If Trask comes up here, I'll just challenge him to a sword fight."

Rachel smirked. "And then call upon the powers of your magical ring? I recall jewelry being involved somehow…"

Chuckling, Tim nodded before agreeing, "Ah yes, my mother's gold ring – served me well when we compared booty."

"You mean our collection of rocks and stocking lint? Somehow I fail to see how I could've ever won when you had actual gold on your side."

Grinning, Tim teased, "Ah, but I had brains on my side, as well…it was a cross I had to bear, but an onus, nonetheless."

_"Tim!"_

"What?" Laughing at the look on Rachel's face, he slung an arm across her shoulders before sustaining, "Just think, Rachel…Captain Redbeard and Lady Grey could still sail the seven seas, if you're up to it."

Rachel sighed. "Tim, that was a child's game…"

"Well with that attitude it is! Where's my snarky little friend who constantly made me walk the plank?"

"Tim, I'm going to make you walk the plank right now unless you keep it down…Reverend Trask will hear you!"

"Relax, he won't know – Riggs is downstairs keeping guard" Tim gently assured her. Smiling, he added, "Besides, it's been a while since I actually thought about the good old days. It seems that no matter how hard I try, I'm always living for the present, or worse yet, someone else."

Nodding in empathy, Rachel managed to give a smile of her own before asking, "How was your return to life, Captain Redbeard? I seem to recall that you were dead mere hours ago."

Tim couldn't help but groan. "Without you present at dinner, I was forced to carry on an actual conversation with each of the Trasks. Charity kept talking about how each of her pupils owe their smarts to her, Minerva made light remarks on the weather, and Reverend Trask kept spitting on my food amidst his sanctimonious observations."

Rachel giggled. "Well it sounds like you had yourself a mighty fine time…sorry I missed it."

"Well, I can always put in the good word so you can attend…"

"Don't you dare!"

Chuckling, Tim removed his arm from her person as he rose to his feet, a boyish grin coming to his lips as he teased, "Well if it makes you feel any better, I'm sure Reverend Trask wouldn't mind your company…"

_"Tim!"_

"You're right, you're right – Trask's locked you away like a princess in a tower, so I guess you're not exactly his favorite person at the moment" Tim agreed. "In all honesty, I feel as if I'm in some sick, twisted fairytale…where're the Brothers Grimm to rewrite it when you need them?"

Giving him a wry smile, Rachel propped her chin on her fist as she softly admitted, "You know, I've really missed this, Tim."

"Missed what?"

_"This"_ she explained, waving her arms about as if they would give the answer. "Before we attempted running away, we honestly hadn't been able to see much of each other…I've really missed having these silly little conversations with you. Sometimes I truly believe they're the only things that keep me sane."

Tim's eyes softened. "Yeah, me too…I've missed my Lady Grey."

Holding out his hand, he helped Rachel to her feet before enveloping her within his warm embrace, his lips forming into a smile against her dark hair as he felt her cling to him tightly.

"Don't ever change, Tim" Rachel pleaded, her eyes tearing up as she buried her face against his chest. "Please, don't ever, _ever_ change…"

"Well only if you promise to never make me eat one of your gross mud pies, again" Tim teased, his fingers splaying gently across her back.

Rachel couldn't help but laugh. "Well with a plea as sweet as that, how can I possibly say no?"

**A/N**: Wow, this chapter took me FOREVER and a YEAR! Sorry about that! I always have major writer's block with reunion scenes and love scenes, so since it started out with a reunion scene, I should've known I was doomed from the beginning. lol But anywhos, hope nobody seems out of character – after watching/studying Rachel and Tim, I found that Tim has a sarcasm that's really fun, so I tried to play that into this chapter. I feel this is how he would behave if he were free to express himself at Worthington, and Rachel helps to bring it out of him since they were childhood friends. Before Rachel died on the show, she mentioned how they used to sing sea shanties, so I thought it'd be cool to incorporate one. I've never heard it before in my life, but it's a shanty called "Hieland Laddie" that I found on a website. For some reason the tune to that old "There's a hole in the bucket" song kept coming to mind while reading it, hehe. Anywhos, hopefully I can get the next chapter out faster!


	4. A Ray of Sunshine

**CH 4: A Ray of Sunshine**

"Jamison, are you even paying attention?"

The boy in question looked up in surprise, his expression immediately souring as he grumbled, "I hate it here…why should I listen when I'm just going to get punished, anyway? You even punished Rachel, and she never does anything wrong!"

Tim sighed. "Jamison, I didn't have anything to do with her punishment…"

"But you could have!" he irritably insisted. "If you would've stood up for her, she might not be locked up in that cold, creepy attic right now!"

Removing his spectacles from the bridge of his nose, Tim leaned against his desk before glumly agreeing, "Perhaps you're right…if I were as much of a friend to Rachel as I'd like to think I am, I would've tried to help free her."

Surprised that Tim had actually listened, Jamison set his pencil down while mumbling, "Well it's too late now, Mr. Shaw…it's already her second day of punishment, so if you were to go and ask Reverend Trask today, he'd most likely give her even _more_ days of punishment."

Tim stared at Jamison in admiration. "You are a very wise and astute young man, Mr. Collins."

"No, just well-adjusted" Jamison assured him with a modest shrug. "You kinda have to be when you live here."

Tim smiled sadly before nodding in agreement. "Been there, done that…am _still_ doing that, for that matter, so I'm very inclined to agree with you."

"Timothy?"

Looking up in surprise, Tim forced a smile to his lips as Charity approached them, her tone straight and to the point as she revealed, "Miss Judith Collins is stopping by later this afternoon, and is undoubtedly expecting some sort of progress report. I trust that Jamison is suitable for visiting?"

Jamison couldn't help but beam. "Visit? _Me?_ Oh, yes, ma'am!"

"Hmph – judging by your answering out of turn, I would say that quite the opposite is true" Charity sourly observed. "Timothy, keep him after class for a lecture on how to address one's elders."

"Charity, is that really necessary? The boy's just excited over finally being able to visit a family member… Surely there's no crime against that?"

"Not immediately, no" Charity agreed, "but excitement leads to greed, greed leads to gluttony, and so on and so forth. If there is anything my father has taught me, it's that all sins are interconnected and need to be stopped at the root of the problem. In Jamison's case, the root is excitement."

Fighting the urge to roll his eyes, Tim took Charity by the arms before acknowledging, "Very well, I will lecture him, but I'm finding that very difficult to do while you're in my classroom."

"Oh! B-b-but I…"

"Good_bye_, Charity." With a weary sigh, Tim showed his fiancée to the door before shutting it in her face, a smile forming along his lips as he heard Jamison's laughter.

"Boy, you sure showed her, Mr. Shaw!"

"Now, Jamison" Tim mockingly admonished, "you heard what Miss Trask said – I need to teach you a lesson on addressing your elders."

"Aww, do you have to?"

"No" Tim admitted, "but I _will_ teach you how to skip stones since that served me well as a boy. If you promise to be extremely quiet, we can sneak out back and go to the lake."

His eyes widening with excitement, Jamison leapt up from his stool before agreeing, "Oh, yes sir, you won't hear a peep out of me!"

Chuckling, Tim ruffled the boy's hair before acknowledging, "Alright then, let's go."

000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

"Oh, Reverend Trask, this is such a _beautiful_ school!"

"Why thank you, my dear Miss Judith – my family and I pride in it quite a bit" Trask returned with a smug smile. "Although pride is a terrible sin in today's world, my family and I channel our pride into a pillar of strength that helps uphold the foundation of Worthington."

Judith's head bobbed in agreement. "Oh, there's no doubt… I'm ever so impressed with Jamison's progress! His marks are nearly _flawless!"_

"Are you truly surprised, Miss Collins?" Trask inquired, clearly feigning incredulity. "After all, he comes from an exceedingly well-bred family, so we expected nothing less than perfection."

Judith couldn't help but giggle. "Oh, Reverend, go _on!"_

"No, really" Trask assured her. "You Collinses are a rare and extraordinary breed – quite bright and exceptional in each of your own ways."

Clearly buying into his false praises, Judith allowed a shy smile to grace her lips as she folded her hands within her lap. Batting her lashes, her tone grew soft and full of hope as she sweetly ventured, "In all truth, Reverend Trask, I am very glad to hear that you hold my family in such high regard, for I have actually come with somewhat of an ulterior motive."

"Oh?"

Nodding, Judith sustained, "As you may or may not already know, I host an annual ball at Collinwood with the hopes of becoming better acquainted with the locals. Now that I've come to consider you and your family very dear friends, I would be most honored if you would grace us with your presence."

Trask felt his cheeks color in indignation. "A _ball?"_ he reiterated, thoroughly stunned. "Why Madame, with all due respect, a man of the cloth never falls prey to such frivolities as balls. While there, the opportunities to find sin are positively endless!"

"Oh, but Reverend Trask, I can assure you that these balls are anything but sinful – everyone remains in the ballroom the entire time" Judith hurriedly assured him. "If you're afraid that your daughter shall fall prey to Quentin's wooing, I can assure you that he will be kept under a watchful eye."

Trask snorted. "Miss Collins, my Charity has far more of a level head than you give her credit for. My primary concern is the decadence the women allow themselves during these balls…such vanity over one's appearance is sinful!"

Appearing to be rather hurt, Judith urged, "Oh, _please_ attend the ball, Reverend Trask – I've got an entire chest full of clothes that I had hoped to present to your family and staff. I know you do not approve, but your being there would mean _so_ much to me…"

Rubbing his chin as if deep in thought, Trask realized that his acquiescence could result in further funding of the school. With a brummagem smile stretching across his lips, he placed his hand over hers before inquiring, "What time should we arrive, my dear?"

"Oh, Reverend Trask, you have made me _so_ unbelievably happy!" Judith gushed, her free hand now falling over his. "You shall arrive at seven tomorrow evening, but preferably a little earlier so you can mingle with the family. I would also like to ask that you send the children and Rachel home with me tonight so she can assist me with presenting them. Jamison and Nora are commonly a large portion of my conversations, so I will need Miss Drummond to fill me in on their specific progress."

Trask couldn't help but frown. "I am afraid that Miss Drummond will be unable to attend this event, for she is needed at the school tomorrow evening."

"Oh, but surely you can spare her! I've invited the entire family and staff!"

His frown only deepening, Trask sullenly pressed his palms together before acquiescing, "Yes, yes, alright…just give me a moment to ready Miss Drummond and the children."

As he rose from his perch, he felt a distinct fury running throughout his bloodstream. Although Judith was a friend – a very _rich_ friend – he didn't like feeling as if he were controlled, and more importantly, by a woman.

_'No matter'_ he inwardly decided. _'Once this disastrous affair is through, I shall be one step closer toward owning the Collins' family fortune…'_

000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

Lying miserably on her side, Rachel grimaced once she discovered that her uncomfortable position had left several kinks in her back. Her dress was also slightly damp from the rainfall that had managed to seep in through the ceiling cracks, yet somehow the bitter chill failed to discomfort her.

When the telltale creaking of the trapdoor roused her, Rachel slowly lifted her head in expectance, only to immediately lie back down the moment she realized it was Reverend Trask.

"Miss Drummond?"

Stiffening at the sound of his voice, Rachel curled up further into herself as she purposely ignored him, her eyes squeezing shut as she heard his boots slapping against the flooring.

"Miss Drummond?" Trask reiterated, only louder this time. "Your punishment has come to a premature end due to some very unexpected circumstances – pack lightly and go downstairs to meet up with Miss Judith."

Slowly raising herself from off the floor, Rachel could scarcely contain her excitement as she breathed, "Miss Collins? Y-you mean…she's actually _here?_ Has she come to take me and the children back to Collinwood?"

Trask smirked. "Indeed she has, my dear child, but please refrain from all exhilaration since it is only for a short time…a full day, to be exact."

"Oh, Reverend Trask, thank you _so_ much for allowing me to leave!" Rachel exclaimed, her spirits so high that she could scarcely breathe.

Smirking, Trask elliptically returned, "Oh, don't thank me, my dear Miss Drummond…thank Miss Collins."

"Oh, I _will!"_ Placing a hand to her cheek, Rachel cheerily chirped, "Forgive me, Reverend Trask, but I must pack now…please tell Miss Collins I will be down momentarily!"

As Trask watched after Rachel's blithely retreating form, a cold and bitter scowl immediately transformed his aged features. His eyes narrowing, he hissed into the cold air, "You may feel that you have escaped me for now, Miss Drummond, but I _will_ get you back…you were always meant to be mine!"

**A/N**: Yeeeah, so I somehow managed to update this faster than the other chapter…probably because it's a filler and I'm eager to get to the next chapter. Dancing, mayhem, jealousy, and DANCING! lol Not only that, but it'll give me a chance to explore the other characters, and that should be fun, especially that good ol' lascivious Quentin. hehe


	5. The Grand Ball

**CH 5: The Grand Ball**

"Timothy, be a dear and fetch my shawl, won't you?"

Sighing, Tim jogged back to the carriage and retrieved Charity's powder blue shawl, his brows drawing inward once he noticed two young women giggling and pointing in his direction. As he returned the garment, he jokingly remarked, "It would seem that men of my stature shouldn't be carrying shawls…pity since I found it rather becoming of my eyes."

"Oh, be serious, you silly fool!" Lightly rapping his arm as punishment, Charity reclaimed her shawl before draping it gently about her shoulders. Although she had a charmingly petite figure, the gown that she'd chosen made her seem quite matronly. Tim found that he wanted to be attracted to his fiancée and her frumpy appearance, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't even stir up the slightest bit of desire.

With a heavy sigh, he followed her toward the back entrance where the festivities were being held. Past the tall, iron-barred door laid a glorious ballroom with gold leaf ornamentation, Brazilian brown flooring, and large, scenic windows that stretched all the way from the floor to the ceiling.

With his mouth agape, Tim adjusted his ascot as Charity clung to his arm and began to forcefully lead him across the floor. To his amazement, when he looked down at his feet, he discovered that he could see his reflection staring bemusedly back at him.

"Would you care for a drink, sir?"

Startled by the sudden question, Tim immediately looked up and sheepishly shook his head. "No, but thank you…the lady and I won't be drinking tonight."

When the servant walked away, Charity snuggled up against his arm before cooing, "Very good, Timothy, Father has taught you _so_ well! It pleases me quite immensely that you were able to deny the devil's drink!"

"Well when the devil's presented to you on a daily basis, I suppose it's rather easy to resist his wiles" Tim grumbled.

Clearly not comprehending his reference, Charity cocked her head to the side before drawing her brows together. "Darling, sometimes you say the most curious things… Would you be a dear and fetch me some punch? I feel as if my mouth is made of sand!"

"Oh…well of course" Tim agreed. Eagerly abandoning his fiancée, the teacher made sure to take the longest route possible toward the refreshments table. Weaving in and out of the merrily dancing couples, he found his gaze straying toward the visitors with the hopes of spotting a familiar face.

Little Nora and Jamison were darting in and out of the dance rows, clearly trying to see who would be the first to collide with a guest. On the far end of the room, Reverend Trask stood in all his pompous glory, Judith Collins politely hanging onto his every word. At her side sulked poor Quentin, his disinterest over the most likely insipid conversation quite evident as he kept checking his pocket watch. It was relatively clear he was being chaperoned due to his longing looks toward the dance floor, and, as luck would have it, several of the female patrons were returning his gaze with disappointment, a lovely blonde, wine-serving maid being one of the most notably upset.

Feeling as if he were witnessing something he shouldn't be, Tim respectfully averted his eyes and finally approached the refreshments table. As he did so, he noticed Edward speaking with a young woman a few persons down, but the identity of the guest failed to be recognized since her back was currently facing her curious onlooker. Oh, but what a glorious back it was! With warm, chestnut-brown hair, her ringlets were swept back into a bun fastened by several diamond barrettes, a few stray locks hanging loosely by her ears and framing what was undoubtedly a beautiful face. Each delicate shoulder was bare, yet a large peach-colored, satin ribbon wrapped about her arms as sleeves and drifted downward into a soft backline. Right at her derriere, a gentle bustle was strategically placed, the veil-like fabric coalescing beautifully with the remaining satin and shining remarkably like the stars in the sky.

At that moment, the woman threw her head back in a delighted laugh, her laughter sweet and musical as her body gently swayed along with her amusement. Deciding to put an end to his curiosity, Tim forced a smile to his lips as he eagerly approached the pair, his hand politely extending as he greeted, "Good evening, Mr. Collins – it's an absolute honor to be attending this delightful ball, so I thank you full-heartedly for inviting me."

Returning the offered handshake, Edward nodded once in acknowledgment before returning, "Believe me, 'twas not my intention to uninvite the two people who've been aiding in my children's education. They are beyond a doubt little geniuses – true Collinses in the making!"

As the woman laughed, Tim finally spared her a furtive glance, his eyes widening in astonishment once he realized it was…

"_Rachel?"_

"Hello, Tim" she warmly returned, her eyes shining like that of sea glass as she fondly took his hand in hers. "I'm so glad you could make it – I didn't actually think Reverend Trask would allow either of us to come!"

Nodding distractedly in response, Tim allowed his gaze to rove from her pleasant features to the soft gloved hand that was currently holding his own, a smile gracing his lips before he genuinely divulged, "Rachel, you look…um…"

Laughing, the governess warmly assured him, "Well you look very 'um' yourself, Tim – have you been here long?"

"No" he admitted, "but I'm hoping to rectify that…this is the first time I've ever been treated like royalty in a public place. Never before have I had someone actually offer me a glass of wine!"

Rachel smiled. "Me neither…this is also my first ball, but my father taught me a few dances as a child in case I ever went to one." Smiling rather sadly, she sustained, "He insisted that I was his little princess, and because of that I would end up living in a shining castle hosting ball after ball for my loyal subjects."

Giving a sudden bow, Tim grinned boyishly as he revealed, "I know it's probably not my place to offer, Lady Grey, but I would be honored if you'd allow me to introduce you to the art of dancing."

Rachel smirked. "I could never deny my dear court jester, so it is with great cordiality that I accept your offer."

Linking her arm in his, the governess smiled up at her childhood friend as he led her to the dance floor, her expression soon appearing to be a little nervous as they both got into position.

As was customary, the men stepped forward first, Rachel a little awkwardly following suit with a step-ball-chain of her own before taking Tim's hand in hers. As they turned about and switched positions, the music picked up in tempo and the entire room began clapping to the beat, Rachel giving Tim an uneasy smile as the men came forward and, shoulder to shoulder with the women, returned back to their rightful positions.

As the two dance rows began to break off in order to form several small circles, Tim glanced at Rachel before he teasingly remarked, "You know, Lady Grey, I'm not going to make you walk the plank after this, so there's no need to be so grim-faced."

"I'm concentrating!" Rachel irritably defended, her hands meeting with the two individuals on either side of her before they all began to gallop to the right. "If my dancing face offends you, perhaps you should dance with your fiancée, instead."

"Oh yes, I'm sure Madame Stick-in-the-Mud would be absolutely _delighted_ to accompany me out here" Tim grumbled.

Now turning and galloping to the left, Rachel giggled before mocking, "Why, Captain Redbeard, do you mean to tell me that you find your fiancée dull and taciturn? Reverend Trask would consider your abhorrence a sin, you know…"

"Just like I consider his word on sin an abhorrence? Yes, yes, I know" Tim acknowledged with a smirk. Breaking out of the circle, Tim took Rachel's hand and the couple turned to the side, their steps graceful and light as they rhythmically stepped forward, rose on their toes, then repeated the step in the opposite direction.

"You know, for not being very well-versed with dancing, I'd say we're doing rather well!" Rachel proudly remarked.

Grinning, Tim gibed, "Well, what a coincidence – I was just thinking about how beautifully I'm moving…rather like a galloping gazelle, wouldn't you agree?"

"Oh, Tim!" Rolling her eyes, Rachel turned to repeat the dance step, only to realize that the song had come to a close. As the room broke into applause, she noticed Judith leading Charity over toward the grand piano in the far corner of the room. "Don't look now, Tim" she whispered, "but it would seem that your fiancée's been asked to entertain the guests…"

Tim grimaced. "If there's anything I've learned at Worthington Hall, it's that Charity is completely tone-deaf…I say we make our escape before it seems rude."

Surprised at Tim's words, Rachel giggled as he took her by the arm and began leading her toward the terrace, her gaze uneasily drifting over her shoulder as she searched for Reverend Trask. It wasn't that she and Tim were doing something improper, but she was fully aware that _Trask_ would deem it so…

Oblivious to Rachel's sudden state of unease, Tim smiled to himself as they stepped out onto the moonlit terrace, his eyes growing soft as he gazed up into the pure velvet sky. "I can't remember a time when I was able to see the stars so well…look over there at Orion's belt."

"I never understood the constellations" Rachel admitted with a smile. "The stars are supposed to form a specific picture, yet I have yet to see those Gemini twins look like something opposed to starry blobs!"

Tim chuckled. "I'll agree with you on that, but I suppose stargazing's so important since it's something I did habitually with my father. When he knew he was dying of consumption, he took me outside one last time and pointed out this large, brilliant star. He said that after he died, he would inhabit that star and watch over me…that nothing could ever harm me as long as that star was in the sky."

Rachel's gaze couldn't help but soften. "Oh, Tim, I had no idea…"

"It's alright" he gently assured her. "Guess I never mentioned it because I was afraid it'd make me unmanly… Then again, Trask was able to emasculate the boys at Worthington Hall quite well, so I suppose star-gazing was the least of my worries."

Giggling, Rachel leaned against the railing to the terrace before nodding her agreement, her voice hushed and reverent as she revealed, "I know you're not going to believe this, Tim, but my father actually told me something very similar…his star's over there."

Following the direction in which she'd pointed, Tim smiled once he realized that their fathers' stars were practically side by side. Now turning so that he was gazing into her star-dusted eyes, his smile only widened as he murmured, "Maybe we were meant to find one another for a reason… Maybe our fathers made sure we met because they knew we could take care of each other."

"Oh…well maybe" Rachel agreed, her cheeks growing hot as she suddenly noticed the nearness of their bodies. With slight embarrassment, she felt Tim slide his hand fondly over her own, her heart beginning to pound hollowly within her chest once she realized that he was gazing deeply into her eyes.

"Ah, there you are, Mr. Shaw!"

Startled, Tim and Rachel broke away from one another as they turned to face none other than Quentin Collins, a wolfish grin upon his lips and a mischievous twinkle in his eye as he sustained, "Charity has practically turned the whole estate upside down looking for you, so it might be in your best interest to suddenly reappear."

Grimacing, Tim realized aloud, "Right, I was supposed to get her a drink…I must've forgotten while dancing with Rachel."

"And who could blame you? Let me just commend you for having _excellent_ taste, Mr. Shaw – it seems that our idea of the perfect woman is rather one in the same."

His cheeks coloring, Tim mumbled a barely audible farewell to Rachel, his eyes averting to the ground as he side-stepped Quentin and hurriedly re-entered the manor.

With a lingering look in his direction, Rachel barely even noticed Quentin advancing upon her until she felt his hand touch the small of her back.

"Nice night, huh?"

"Oh…yes" Rachel agreed, her discomfort evident as she directed her gaze toward the lush gardens below. "I was actually just going to go back inside…I-I mean, because Miss Collins might need help with the children."

Quentin smirked. "Judith will be _fine_, Rachel – what's the rush, anyway? I thought we both agreed we were friends."

"Oh, well of course, but…"

"Quentin Ezekiel Collins!"

Groaning, the aforementioned plastered a smile on his face as he turned in order to intercept their caller, his voice full of jocularity as he exclaimed, "Why, Edward! Fancy meeting you, of all people out here in such a romantic setting…pray tell, where is your paramour?"

"Oh, pish-posh! I tire of your insolence, Quentin, for I have-"

"Yes, yes, I should've known – you have _two_ paramours…one for each arm!" Quentin cheekily interjected.

Turning scarlet from the neck up, Edward began to indignantly splutter before he finally managed to choke out, "Now see here, you…you pompous windbag! I'll have you know that I've been sent out here by our sister to make sure you're behaving, and I can clearly see that you are not! Have you both no sense of propriety? Return inside at once!"

"Oh, but Mr. Collins, I was merely stargazing!" Rachel pitifully insisted.

"Oh, is that what they call it, nowadays? Quit dallying about and get inside!"

Biting his lower lip to prevent his laughter, Quentin placed an arm about the not-so-amused Rachel Drummond's waist and led her back inside.

000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

Rachel sat at her vanity combing her hair, all the while wondering when Judith would pop in and tell her it was time to go back to Worthington Hall. She knew Tim had already left, but Trask had 'graciously' agreed to let her return in the morning.

Setting her ivory comb down onto the oak finish of the vanity, Rachel gazed intently back at her reflection as she tried to perceive the beauty everyone so commonly spoke of. Rachel didn't think herself unsightly, but she most certainly didn't view herself as beautiful. As a child she had been complimented by her peers, and even the ever loathsome Reverend Trask, but Tim had constantly teased her by calling her "freckle face". Her freckles had naturally vanished with age, but that single mocking nickname had stuck with her far more than any of her bountiful compliments. What's more, she couldn't help but wonder if Tim viewed her any differently now that they were both fully-grown adults.

With a sigh, Rachel rose from her perch and went to turn off her lamp, her soul feeling as fleeting as the distinguished light as she became bathed in the perpetual darkness.

**A/N**: Well that was, fun, hehe. Poor ol' Rachel has to return to that dagburn school, but hopefully I can still keep it interesting. :-P


	6. Memory Lane

**CH 6: Memory Lane**

Glancing down at her work, Rachel paused before realizing that she'd made a mathematical error in the grade book. "Oh, bother" she whispered, irritably scratching out the numbers with her quill.

As she dipped her feather back into the inkwell, the sound of heavy footsteps came pounding down the hallway like those of a large beast. Startled, Rachel leapt up from her desk just as Tim came barreling into the room, her eyes wide and full of confusion as she demanded, "Tim, what on earth is going on here? You're running about like a bull in a china closet!"

"Can't talk, playing hide and seek" he breathlessly returned, his grin proving to be quite infectious as he suddenly spotted the perfect hiding place. As he opened the tall cabinet and stepped inside, he turned to Rachel before urging in a whisper, "You never saw me, alright?"

Not even getting the chance to answer, the governess pivoted about just in time to see little Nora come bursting in through the doorway, her eyes large and full of excitement as she began to eagerly inspect the far corner of the room.

With a devious smirk on her lips, Rachel suddenly leaned against the wardrobe before revealing, "He's in here, sweetheart."

There came the sound of an outraged groan from inside the cabinet, Nora beaming as she rushed forward and thrust open the double doors. Before Tim could even think to run away, she leapt forward and tackled him while squealing, "I found you, Mr. Shaw, I _found_ you! You said I wouldn't, but I did!"

Nearly toppling over due to her unexpected weight, Tim chuckled before admitting, "That you did, Nora…I suppose I was a fool to believe that such a smart little girl couldn't find me."

Giggling, Rachel placed a hand against her cheek while urging, "Nora, sweetie, why don't you go back to your room before Reverend Trask realizes you're gone? We'll all play later, but for now Mr. Shaw and I have work to do."

"Aw, well alright" Nora disappointedly agreed. As she turned to leave, she added, "Do you think we could play hopscotch later? I haven't played that in ever so long!"

Rachel smiled warmly. "Of course we can, Nora…I'll see you and Jamison in a little while."

After the child had blithely run off, Tim approached Rachel before he teasingly remarked, "You are in _big_ trouble, young lady."

"Oh, am I now? Last time I checked, helping a child win a _child's_ game was not a crime."

Tim smirked. "Maybe so" he agreed, "but just know this: when you least expect it, I'm going to come and get my revenge."

"You mean revenge for giving away your silly hiding place?"

"It was _not_ silly – it was an excellent hiding place and you know it!" Tim playfully shot back. "You may be smug now, Rachel Drummond, but just you wait…"

Rachel smirked. "Wait for what, you to make a fool of yourself, again? Believe me, I look forward to it."

"Glad we're in agreement, then" Tim acknowledged. Folding his hands behind his back, he nodded once before sustaining, "Now if you'll excuse me, I've got some serious business to attend to."

"Yes, I'll bet you do…goodbye, Tim."

As Rachel watched him leave, a large, warm grin came flooding across her features. Although times were trying at Worthington Hall, it was nice to see that at least _something_ never changed…

000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

"Here is your tea, my dear."

Thanking the reverend profusely, Judith accepted the offered beverage before bringing it to her lips. As she gazed back at him over the rim, she slowly lowered the cup before admitting, "I must confess that one horrid question has been plaguing me to no end, and I fear that I will go mad with pity lest I ask it – your wife, Reverend…have they found her yet?"

Feigning a look of utter agony, Trask placed a hand to his heart before bemoaning, "Alas, my dear Minerva…the authorities haven't found hide nor hair of my darling wife, and I feel that only the light of the Almighty has sustained me."

Judith paled. "Oh, my dear, kind sir…I am so terribly sorry for reopening such a fresh wound!"

"Nonsense, my dear – I thank you full-heartedly for caring about my well-being" Trask gently insisted. "You are by far, my dear Miss Collins, one of the purest souls I have ever had the honor of meeting."

Judith felt her cheeks grow rosy with pleasure. "Oh, Reverend Trask, you are far too kind!"

"I only speak the truth" he earnestly assured her. "Without your loving manner, I fear that I would have gone off the deep end long ago…"

"Oh, Reverend Trask – please say it isn't so!"

"I am afraid that it's true, my dear lady" Trask softly returned. "You are truly my only salvation…my only light in this everlasting darkness that we call life."

Placing her hand over his, Judith fondly returned his gaze before revealing, "Then with God as my witness, I swear that I will never abandon you, dearest Reverend. You have been a glorious counsel in my life, and it would give me the greatest pleasure to be yours."

In accordance with her words, Trask couldn't help but smirk. "My dear lady" he smugly began, "consider your help accepted."

000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

Finally having finished grading her papers, Rachel placed them all in a neat stack on her desk before giving a light yawn. It was now six in the evening, and she knew each child was being ordered to do their nightly rituals. It had been ages since her bedtime was deemed seven o'clock, but now that she was a teacher, she was only given a nine o'clock reprieve.

Turning in order to grab her hair brush, Rachel gave a start when a sudden gentle rapping came at her bedroom door. Wondering who could possibly be visiting her at that hour, Rachel curiously eased the door open before shrieking the moment a pillow came careening into the side of her face.

Laughing, Tim exclaimed, "I _told_ you I'd get you back when you'd least expect it!"

Positively speechless, Rachel gave a cry of outrage before racing toward her bed in order to fetch her own pillow, Tim's laughter egging her on as she began to sprint after him down the hallway.

"Timothy Landon Shaw, I ought to box your ears!" she shrieked, laughing in spite of her annoyance.

Grinning while glancing back over his shoulder, Tim rounded a bend before bursting through the side door that led to the large, verdant garden Minerva Trask held so much pride in. Tripping and leaping over the various vegetation, the couple continued their playful game of cat and mouse until the more impish of the two got his foot caught in a hole. With a cry, Tim stumbled forward and went rolling down the hill, a startled 'oof!' escaping his lips the moment Rachel triumphantly smacked him over the head with her pillow.

"Got you!"

Grinning rather roguishly, Tim reluctantly agreed, "Yes, yes, you won fair and square, but do me a favor and help me up, won't you? I think I pulled a muscle…"

When Rachel obligingly reached out to help him to his feet, Tim seized her by the hand and yanked her down to the ground. Squealing, she tried to shield herself from harm's way, but Tim mercilessly began raining hit after hit upon her body with his pillow.

"Tim Shaw, you are _diabolical!"_ Rachel shrieked, now resorting to playful slapping since she'd lost her pillow amidst their tiff.

Easily catching her by either wrist, Tim maneuvered the governess so that she was trapped beneath his weight, their laughter mingling as Rachel finally begged for mercy.

"Oh, no" Tim argued, "you're not getting away _that_ easily – I'll only let you go if you say I'm the most glorious being on the face of this earth."

"Alright" Rachel agreed, "I'm the most glorious being on the face of this earth."

"No, no, no – say that Tim _Shaw_ is the most glorious being on the face of this earth."

"Never!"

Squealing, Rachel tried to squirm free of his grasp, but this only resulted in him tickling her sides, her lashes growing moist with tears as she burst into a fit of giggles. "Tim, I am going to _murder_ you!" she gasped, kicking about as she tried her best to stop his invasive appendages. "Tim, I mean it…gah, _stop!"_

Laughing, Tim finally rolled off of her before agreeing, "Alright, alright, Lady Grey…guess it's true when people say that some things never change."

"Oh? And how's that?"

"You're just as much of a sissy now as you were back then."

_"Tim!"_

Snickering, Tim allowed Rachel to smack his arm in retaliation, the blithe pair hardly giving their surroundings a second thought until a gentle sprinkling began to mist down upon them.

"Hm…seems like rain" Tim softly observed, his hand reaching out in order to catch a few drops.

Smirking, Rachel mocked, "Well gee, nothing gets past you, does it?"

Before Tim could even reply, the heavens opened up and the angels poured their tears down to earth, Rachel shrieking as the heavy droplets began to almost immediately transform her dress into a second skin. Barely able to see through the pelting water, she fearfully demanded, "What shall we do now? Reverend Trask will be furious if he finds us soaking wet!"

"Don't worry, he won't" Tim assured her. "Come on, I know a place where we can go until the storm dies down." After he took her hand in his, the couple began racing across the slippery grass toward the woods, Rachel's teeth chattering as she found herself wondering what sort of shelter Tim could possibly have in mind. As children they often snuck out to play in the woods, but surely there was nothing in there worthy of refuge!

With a crash of thunder overhead, the wind began whistling through the trees and blowing rain in their faces, Rachel crying out when a burst of lightning briefly illuminated the sky as though it were day.

Noting her fear, Tim gently squeezed her hand and assured her that it wasn't much further, a sudden smile slipping across Rachel's lips when she finally recognized their surroundings. On her left was the tree Tim had fallen off of and scarred his lip as a boy, and on her far right was their favorite spot for their infamous pirate battles.

"Oh, Tim" Rachel breathed, "I feel as if I'm literally walking down memory lane – why did you take me here?"

"Are you honestly that forgetful?" he teased. Pointing up ahead, he sustained, "See all those sticks against that tree? It's our old fort…I figured it'd be dry enough to stay in until the storm lets up."

"Oh!" With a broad smile upon her face, Rachel suddenly went racing ahead of him, her enthusiasm evident as she ducked into the entrance and began eagerly rummaging about.

Finally having caught up to her, Tim gingerly poked his head inside before demanding, "What on earth are you doing? We're soaking wet and freezing, yet you're digging a hole?"

"Oh, surely you remember!" Rachel blithely insisted. "Before Reverend Trask found out about our sneaking off, we buried our pirate's treasure…I'm surprised you've forgotten since it was your idea!"

His eyes softening, Tim squeezed his way into the fort before he joined her in her digging, Rachel releasing an elated squeal the moment they unearthed a small wooden box.

Gently brushing the dirt away, the governess gingerly lifted the lid and beamed, her fingers grasping about a small charm as she breathed, "Oh, Tim, it's the charm you gave me during my initiation…you said no pirate should go without one."

Taking the charm into his hand and turning it about, Tim smiled as he admitted, "Yes, I remember now…it pained me to actually buy this since it was a flower, and you _know_ how manly flowers are."

Rachel giggled. "But I really appreciated it – that's why it's in the box. These little trinkets were our prized possessions, and still are in a way."

Peering over her shoulder, Tim grinned before exclaiming, "Hey, it's my leather ball! I used to aggravate Mrs. Trask by bouncing it against the walls at night, but thanks to her poor sense of hearing, she could never tell which room it was coming from."

Giggling, Rachel rummaged some more before breathing, "Oh, it's the paper doll I made! Before I met you, she was my only friend…" Lifting it almost tenderly out of the box, she looked at Tim before revealing, "I'd hate to think what would've happened if I hadn't met you, Tim…you truly were the only person who kept me sane."

Tim groaned. "What, are we going to get mushy about this or something? You know how men are when it comes to emotions…"

"No, I mean it" Rachel forcefully insisted. "Whether I like it or not, I truly feel that I will be indebted to you for the rest of my life."

With a tearful smile upon her face, the governess threw her arms about Tim's neck and buried her face against his shoulder, her friend almost shyly returning her embrace as he felt her soft form pressing against him. The warmth of his body caused Rachel to shiver, her teeth beginning to chatter when she suddenly realized how soaked she really was.

Glancing down at her in concern, Tim gently touched her shoulder as he asked, "Are you alright? You're shaking worse than a newcomer to Worthington Hall…"

Smirking, Rachel nodded her assurance before holding onto him even tighter than before, her breasts stiffening as she found herself seeking any possible source of warmth. It wasn't that she was intentionally being foolish, but all her life Tim had been the one to take care of her, and for once she decided that she would be the one to take care of herself.

Almost seeming to sense this, Tim stubbornly doffed his coat and draped it about her shoulders, Rachel giving a grateful whimper as he wrapped his arms around her and placed her head against his chest. Clinging to him as if he were her only source of salvation, Rachel felt her eyes growing heavy as she listened to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. With that and the gentle pitter-pattering of the rain, she was finding it very difficult to stay awake.

When Tim finally checked on her to see if she was alright, he came to the sudden realization that she was fast asleep. Smiling at this discovery, he gently stoked her hair before leaning back against the wall, his eyes closing as he fondly whispered into the night air, "Goodnight, Lady Grey."

**A/N**: Uuuuh, yeah, I probably should've mentioned somewhere in my previous chapters that Minerva was missing, but I forgot. Oops! lol And go me, this is a complete record: it's chapter six and they haven't even kissed yet! Talk about self control on my part! :gives self a round of applause: Of course I'm sure some people cough – RACHEL! – cough are a little disgusted with that (no, not the fictional Rachel, my friend Rachel lol), but don't worry, it'll happen eventually. :-P


	7. A Girl Worth Dying For

**CH 7: A Girl Worth Dying For**

Trying her best to smother her giggles, Rachel pressed a finger to her lips as she and Tim continued to sneak down the hallway, the pale light casting friendly shadows about the blissful pair as they walked. It was approximately five in the morning, and both teachers were determined to make it back to their rooms before Trask discovered them.

"I'm telling you, _I_ look better when wet."

"Tim, _hush!"_ Rachel hissed, all the while stifling her laughter. "I hope you also think you'll look good with a black eye, because that's what you're going to get if you don't keep quiet!"

As they stopped in front of Rachel's door, Tim grinned before leaning against the doorframe. "Alright, I will" he agreed, "but _only_ if you promise to stargaze with me tonight…indoors, of course. I think we've both had enough outdoor misadventures for one day."

Smirking, Rachel mocked, "Why Tim Shaw, are you asking _me,_ a woman of virtue to enter your room unchaperoned? That might be a problem…"

"Hmm, indeed it might be" Tim acknowledged. "After all, I know there will be a great amount of temptation for you while in my room, and I fear that amidst my vulnerable state you will try to take advantage of me. It will be hard for you, I'm sure, but you must learn to control yourself."

"Ugh, _Tim!"_

Laughing, the teacher easily avoided Rachel's playful swats as he held his hands up in surrender, his voice softening as he asked, "Is this my cue to exit, then? You don't exactly seem like a little ray of sunshine, after all, so maybe I should leave before you knock me into next Tuesday."

"A wise decision" Rachel teased.

Smirking, Tim asked, "So is that a yes to stargazing, then? You never said no, so I'm automatically going to assume the default answer."

"And that answer would be yes, I presume?"

"You got it."

Sighing, Rachel shrugged in acquiescence before agreeing, "Alright, I'll stargaze with you, but only if you let me make up my own constellations."

Tim grinned. "Nothing would make me happier than to watch you make a fool of yourself, Lady Grey, so consider it done."

Before Rachel could even think to give a harsh retort, Tim leaned in and gently kissed her cheek, her heart fluttering as she bemusedly caught the doorframe for support. Had he just…? No, he couldn't have!

Blushing furiously, Rachel stared up at Tim with comically wide eyes before he joked, "What, did I impinge upon some sort of vow of chastity, or something? You seem a little out of sorts…"

Clearing her throat, Rachel hurriedly shook her head. "Oh no, no, of course not Tim, I just…briefly forgot what I was going to say."

"Yes, I tend to have that effect on women" he teased. When Rachel opened her mouth to give a most likely sarcastic retort, he leaned in and pressed his lips to her other cheek. "Goodnight, Lady Grey" he whispered. "I'll see you in the morning. Er…later."

"Oh! Um…yes, goodnight" Rachel breathed, her face growing rosy as she watched after him with fond eyes. Practically swooning the moment he was out of sight, she ducked into her room before diving onto her bed with an elated squeal. Never before had a man made her feel so light and airy, so she nearly felt it natural each time she succumbed to foolish fits of giggling. She knew she was afflicted with the infectious disease of infatuation, but why over Tim Shaw? As a child he'd pulled her hair, teased her to no end, and had even shared his plans to woo other girls. Based upon that, what on earth had changed between them?

_'Everything and nothing'_ Rachel thought, dreamily touching one of the spots that his lips had so fondly caressed. As she continued to daydream in this fashion, a sudden knock roused her from her girlish thoughts and brought her to her feet. Thinking it was Tim back for another talk, Rachel gathered her skirts and eagerly opened the door. What greeted her on the other side, however, caused her to recoil in horrified surprise. "R-Reverend Trask!"

"Miss Drummond" he dryly returned. When she failed to invite him in, he boorishly pushed her aside and secured the door tightly behind him.

Feeling alarm bells going off in accordance with this action, Rachel grasped at her throat as she watched him with fearful eyes. "W-what are you doing here?" she finally demanded. "It's nearly 5:15 in the morning…"

"Yes, indeed it is" Trask snapped. "What I don't understand, Miss Drummond, is how a woman of your caliber can end up soaking wet, let alone awake amidst the wee hours of the morning. How do you explain your current disposition?"

Paling, Rachel fumbled, "Oh, w-well I couldn't sleep, so I went out for a little stroll. I didn't realize that there was a storm approaching, and before I could seek shelter I got caught in the rain."

_"Lies!"_

Stunned, Rachel demanded, "What do you mean? I've told you the entire story!"

Viciously seizing the governess by the scruff of her neck, Trask slammed her down upon her desk before growling, "Repent, you vile sinner! I saw you and Shaw with my own eyes moments ago, and your interaction was most shameful – I could not believe that my own Rachel Drummond had succumbed to the foul web of licentiousness!"

"What? B-but I didn't!" Rachel wailed. "Tim and I are just very good friends, Reverend…our relationship is completely innocent in nature!"

Trask sneered. "Innocent to a fault, correct? I've seen how you look at him, Miss Drummond, and I've also seen how he looks at you… I will not stand for promiscuity to occur beneath the roof of my own school!"

"But we've done nothing wrong!" Rachel sobbed. "How can I prove to you that Tim has pure intentions? That he would never do anything of such a vulgar nature?"

"But _you_ would?" Trask cruelly pressed. "I never took you for the scandalous type, Miss Drummond, but now young Shaw's affections are beginning to make far more sense." Placing his lips at her ear, Trask inhaled lightly and smirked upon noting her shiver, his hand now running along her bottom in a barely perceptible caress. "You have grown into quite a fine young woman, my dear – I can see why you feel you can lure men in with your looks" he purred, Rachel choking back as sob as she felt his hand drift beneath her skirt. "Have you let Tim touch you in this manner, Miss Drummond? Have you opened yourself to him and completely succumbed?"

"No, no, _no!"_ Rachel moaned, tears streaking her cheeks as she tried to squirm free of his demanding grasp. In retaliation, Trask only held on tighter, bile forming at the back of her throat when she felt his fingers drift up the back of her thigh.

Clamping her legs tightly closed in response, Rachel gave a cry the moment Trask roughly forced them back apart.

"I shall teach you the price that the promiscuous pay" he hissed, his hands eagerly drawing her backside against his aroused front. "Please note that I am doing this for you, Miss Drummond…it is God's will!"

Weeping profusely, Rachel felt Trask forcing her flat against the desk so that her ear was pressed against the lacquered finish. Right in front of her face sat a bust of Thomas Jefferson, her eyes briefly flickering with hope as Trask's labored breathing instantly became the haunting background music to her nightmare. With a quick and fluid movement, she seized the bust and knocked Trask straight over the head, the reverend not even having a chance to react before he crumpled down to the ground like a deadweight.

"Oh, my God…" Rachel breathed. "Oh, my _God!"_

Feeling sick to her stomach, she didn't even bother checking if he was alive due to the fear he'd awaken and finish what he'd started. Promptly righting her pantaloons, she staggered almost blindly out into the hallway, her tears blurring her vision to the point that all she could see were vague and fuzzy outlines.

Stumbling the fairly short distance to Tim's room, she tried to withhold her shame as she burst in through his bedroom door.

Not even looking up from his work, Tim grinned before gibing, "What, so you came back for more already? I honestly wasn't expecting you to come to me so quickly, but who am I to deny a lady's request?" When nothing but silence greeted his ears, Tim finally looked up in order to see the pale, ashen face of Rachel Drummond, his heart palpitating painfully within his chest at the very sight of her. "Rachel" he breathed, "what's happened to you? Are you hurt?"

"Oh, Tim!" Racing forward into his arms, Rachel buried her face against his chest before sobbing bitterly, her fingers interlacing with his as she pleaded, "Just hold me, please…I promise I won't ask any more of you but this…"

Obliging amidst his concern, Tim stroked her hair as he listened to her agonizingly pitiful sobs. "Oh, Rachel, won't you tell me what's wrong? Perhaps I can help you…"

"I can't" she moaned, "I _can't!_ I fear that it will only make things worse!"

Taking Rachel by the shoulders, Tim gently cupped her cheek so that she was forced to return his gaze. It was warm and filled with unabashed concern.

_'Concern for me'_ Rachel realized.

Furrowing his brows, Tim urged, "Tell me what's happened, Rachel…if I don't know what's wrong, how can I protect you?"

"Oh, Tim" Rachel sobbed, "I don't want you to know in case you get hurt…Trask is a very powerful man!"

"Trask? What has he done to you?"

"Oh! I-I…nothing, Tim, it's just…"

"What has he _done_ to you!?"

Stunned by the fury in Tim's normally docile brown eyes, Rachel bowed her head before she began to tremble at the memory. "Oh, Tim" she breathed, "it was _awful…_ He saw us when you said goodnight to me, a-and he accused me of being promiscuous."

Not liking where this was going, Tim urged, "And then what happened? Did he hurt you?"

"No, not exactly" Rachel admitted with a shudder. "I insisted that our relationship was nothing to be concerned about, but he didn't believe me, and…" She swallowed. "Well, he…he tried to…to…"

_"What?"_

Bursting into tears, Rachel wailed, "Oh, Tim, I can't even say it…I'm so ashamed!" Hiding her face against the collar of his brown suit jacket, she clung to him as she felt him envelop her tightly within his embrace.

"That bastard" he growled. "I'll _kill_ him!"

Rachel gasped. "No, Tim, _don't!_ I told you I didn't want you getting hurt!"

Managing to give her a smile amidst his fury, Tim shook his head before insisting, "You're my Lady Grey, Rachel, and I promised myself that I'd always protect you. As children you were my only friend, and I'll be damned if I let Trask get away with what he did."

"Oh, Tim…" Now more than ever Rachel longed to take him in her arms, but his impatience wouldn't allow her to fulfill her fancy.

Stalking toward the doorway, Tim briefly pivoted about before urging, "Stay here, alright? I'll be back as soon as I can."

"Oh, please be careful" Rachel wept. "I don't know what I'd do if I lost you…"

Tim's gaze couldn't help but soften. "If you can't find me, just check the lost and found…I'm like a bad penny, remember? I always turn up."

"Are you ever serious?" she asked with a smile.

"Only on days that end in "y"."

Before Rachel could even respond, he was already gone, tears streaming down her cheeks as she dropped to her knees and began to pray.

--

His head ached. _Badly._ With a groan, Trask rose from off the floor and staggered into Rachel's desk, his vision going in and out of focus as he noticed the door opening to his right. Before he could even make sense out of what was going on, a fist came out of nowhere and struck him square in the jaw.

Yelping, Trask crashed down to the floor, but was soon retrieved and struck yet again.

"So you think women are toys, do you?" Tim growled, his knuckles splitting as he repeatedly hooked Trask across the face. "If you ever touch Rachel again, so help me God, I _will_ kill you!"

Amidst his beating, Trask couldn't help but laugh. "Ah, so the hero has come to avenge his fair damsel in distress, has he? How charming of you!"

"Shut up!"

Before Tim could strike him again, Trask caught his wrist and sat up, a bloody grin now eerily suffusing his features. "I will spare Rachel" he smugly acknowledged, "but only if you agree to give your life for hers."

Tim balked. "What is this, some kind of sick joke? You wouldn't willingly kill Rachel!"

"Wouldn't I?" Trask shot back. "In case you haven't noticed, Mr. Shaw, one of the female thorns in my side has been successfully disposed of."

"Minerva…"

"Right you are – it would seem that I have quite the brilliant staff on my hands" Trask mocked.

Suddenly feeling quite ill, Tim shook his head in utter disbelief. How could Trask kill his own wife? Minerva may have been a very trying woman, but Tim never wished her dead!

Backing away from Trask as if he'd been burned, Tim shook his head before hissing, "You're a monster…how could you betray your own wife? Your own _daughter?"_

"On the contrary, Mr. Shaw – now that I have given you my proposition, it will be _you_ who has betrayed my family" Trask smugly revealed. When Tim gave him a questioning look, he sustained, "The deal was to give your life for Rachel's…if you take the blame for Minerva's death, she will be spared. If not, Rachel will go to prison and be hanged, instead."

"No" Tim argued, "I won't let you do that!"

"Then say you'll take the blame!"

Feeling his heart pound strenuously within his chest, Tim squeezed his eyes tightly closed and bowed his head. He couldn't let Rachel die…even if it meant dying in the process, he couldn't lose her. Although he didn't like to admit it, over the course of the past few weeks she had woven her way into his heart and touched him in a manner no woman ever had before. She made him see the beauty in life and the true reason for living…_she_ was that reason.

Fighting back tears, it was then that Tim realized he cared very deeply for Rachel…maybe even loved her. Because he couldn't imagine life without her smiling face, he nodded once before agreeing, "Alright, done…I'll take the blame."

Trask couldn't help but grin. "Excellent – I shall go telephone the authorities at once."

As the reverend left Tim to his own devices, the teacher heavily sat down on a stool and rubbed his eyes. Whether Rachel was spared or not, he knew he would lose her…

**A/N**: Yeesh, so I had MAJOR writer's block with this chapter…as soon as I'd get done with one scene, I'd get stuck on the next! :grumbles: But anywhos, I actually had planned on making Tim and Rachel kiss this chapter, but then I changed my mind…sorry, Rachel! I know you've been wanting them to kiss since chapter four (or was it three?), hehe. But yeah, long story short, Trask is a jerk. :-P This story should be ending in either one, two, or three more chapters…thank GOODNESS. lol


	8. Proof of Heaven As You're Living

**CH 8: Proof of Heaven A****s You're Living**

"Miss Drummond, Miss Drummond!"

Immediately looking up, Rachel gave a cry of surprise the moment little Nora came racing into the room, her arms reaching out to the girl as she pressed, "Nora, what's happened? You look so pale!"

"Oh, Miss Drummond" Nora wailed, "they're here… Reverend Trask said they would come, and now they're going to take Mr. Shaw away from us forever!"

Rachel felt her heart leap into her throat at these words. "Who are you talking about, Nora? You're not making any sense!"

"Why, the police, of course! Reverend Trask said Mr. Shaw murdered Mrs. Trask, and now they're here to take him away!"

Placing a hand over her mouth, Rachel swayed unsteadily until she needed to grasp onto a desk for support. Tim, a _murderer?_ No, she couldn't believe it…she _wouldn't!_

Now stooping down so she could look Nora in the eye, Rachel demanded, "Where is Reverend Trask now? I must speak with him as soon as possible."

"In the sitting room meditating…I don't think he'll like your interrupting him."

Scowling, Rachel hotly returned, "I'm afraid that that's a chance I'm completely willing to take."

000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

"Reverend Trask?"

Looking up from his Bible, Trask couldn't help but grin as he greeted, "Ah, Miss Drummond…to what do I owe the pleasure of your delightful presence? Perhaps this time your visit will be far less violent in nature."

"Spare me your jokes – I demand to know what's going on" Rachel snapped.

Frowning deeply, Trask remarked, "And why does that not surprise me? Your curiosity is going to get you into a heap of trouble one day, Miss Drummond, and I can assure you that it will be far sooner than later."

"Why, have you received a vision from God saying so?" Rachel mocked.

"You hold your tongue! I do not take kindly to friends of _murderers!"_

Fighting back tears, the governess shrilly insisted, "Tim Shaw is _not_ a murderer – he would never, _ever_ willingly harm someone!"

"Then why did Shaw confess?" Holding up a signed affidavit, Trask grinned before adding, "If you do not believe me, I implore you to take a look for yourself."

Snatching the parchment from his outstretched hand, Rachel scanned the note in disbelief as she realized that it was, indeed Tim's handwriting. "No" she breathed, "how can this be? Tim didn't have anything to gain from Minerva's death, so surely you blackmailed him into signing this!"

"I most certainly did not!" Trask growled. "It would seem that your esteemed colleague has far more skeletons in his closet than he's let on."

"But…we tell each other everything" Rachel dolefully insisted. "I won't believe a word of this until I see him myself!"

Trask stiffly shrugged his shoulders. "Do what you must, my dear, but there's really little use in it now."

"W-what do you mean by that?"

Grinning, Trask smugly revealed, "Young Shaw is to be hanged by dawn, my dear…if you hurry, perhaps he will confess to his other sins, as well."

As his cruel laughter filled the air, Rachel's eyes widened as she burst into tears, her lithe form trembling as she rushed into the foyer in order to fetch her shawl.

000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

The cell was dark and musty as Tim sat there, his head bowed and his hands between his knees as he wondered what he'd do with his final hours. Pray for world peace, perhaps? Write a sonnet?

Finding humor in his predicament, he couldn't help but grin bitterly, for who else in that very establishment could brag about being _truly_ innocent?

_'It doesn't matter'_ he inwardly assured himself. _'At least this way Rachel's safe from harm…'_

In accordance with this hopeful thought, the cell door clanged open with a tremendous groan, Tim not even bothering to look up as he kept his eyes glued firmly to the floor.

"You've got a visitor, Mr. Shaw" the guard solemnly announced.

Still not dignifying his small audience with eye contact, Tim mumbled something inaudible before he heard the door crash shut, again.

There came an unbearably heavy pause, then a meek, "Tim?", the aforementioned's eyes widening once he realized who his mystery visitor was. "R-Rachel?"

"Yes, Tim" she acknowledged, her teeth biting into her lip as she tried her best not to cry. She'd promised herself beforehand that she'd appear strong for his sake, but how could she possibly remain optimistic when she knew she was going to lose him?

When Rachel moved to continue their conversation, she gave a start the moment Tim promptly turned away from her.

"Go home, Rachel" he sullenly ordered. "You shouldn't be here."

"Not _be_ here?" she reiterated, by now thoroughly stunned. "B-but _why?_ Surely you want company on your…your…"

"Last night to live?" Tim bitterly supplied. Breathing a laugh, he sustained, "No, no, not me…it's better to remain in solitude in situations like this, lest you start yearning to stay alive. Seeing you is going to make me feel just that, so I really wish you'd go home."

Rachel bit her lip. "Surely you don't mean that…"

"I _do,_ dammit! _Go!"_ Miserably placing a hand over his eyes, Tim felt his limbs beginning to quiver in accordance with his inner anguish. He didn't really want Rachel to leave, but if she stayed as he so sorely desired, he would want to make her his own, and he knew he could no longer do that. Why confess his feelings when it would only lead to heartache?

"Does this mean you did it, then?" Fighting back tears, Rachel demanded, "Are you _really_ Minerva Trask's murderer?"

"Rachel…"

"No!" she shouted, "I want to know the truth!"

Gazing up at her with a bitterness that streamed forth from his very soul, Tim solemnly shook his head before whispering, "I can't tell you, Rachel…I wish to God that I could, but my remaining silent will help us both in the long run."

"What on earth are you talking about?" Rachel demanded, by this point in hysterics. "How can keeping quiet help us when your very silence is what's going to get you killed? As children we promised we'd never withhold secrets from one another, so why are we starting now!?"

Miserable, Tim shook his head before agreeing, "I know, Rachel, but please try to understand…my remaining silent is going to save your life, and that's all that matters."

"All that _matters?"_ Giving a bitter laugh, Rachel hissed, "Did you ever once stop to think about me amidst your foolish plan? If what you say is true then yes, I will be alive and well, but what about you, Tim? Your death is going to kill me, yet I'll bet you didn't even consider that!" Clutching at her shawl, Rachel burst into tears before insisting, "If you really cared as much as you'd like me to believe, you would've thought about all of this first! If you die, _I_ die, because if you're gone there's no longer anything worth living for!"

"Goddammit, Rachel, you're actually accusing _me_ of not thinking about you?" Laughing like a raving lunatic, Tim sprung up from his perch before taking her by the arms and shaking her. "Of _course_ I think about you!" he shouted. "In fact, it's like I can't _stop_ thinking about you because you're always on my mind…the first thing I thought of was how this was going to affect you, so don't you _ever_ say I don't care about you when you know I do!"

Sobbing, Rachel wailed, "Then why won't you tell me the truth, Tim? If you cared that much, you would tell me everything so I could help you!"

"No one can help me Rachel, not even you" Tim solemnly revealed. "I've been sworn to secrecy, and I'm not about to break that promise."

Rachel laughed bitterly. "Oh, I see" she mockingly began, "your secret pact with God-knows-who is far more important than thirteen years of friendship. Well if that's how you feel, consider our friendship ended!"

"Rachel, wait!"

Ignoring him, the governess haughtily turned to leave, but not before she'd been pulled possessively back into his arms.

Positively frantic, Tim hissed, "Dammit, Rachel, can't you understand why I'm doing this? If you're really that naïve, it's because I love you!"

With a gasp, Rachel moved to voice her thoughts but Tim crashed his mouth roughly against hers, his hands framing her face as he deepened their kiss and drew her down to sit with him on his cot.

Feeling his arms slipping about her waist, Rachel sat in Tim's lap as he dotted several burning kisses from her cheek to her neck, her body squirming with desire as she felt a if she were melting into a puddle at his feet. For the past few days she'd longed for this moment, but considering where they were it hardly seemed fair. Her first kiss in a prison? How incredibly unromantic!

Pressing his forehead to hers, Tim earnestly begged, "Please don't be mad at me Rachel, because I swear to god I'm doing all this for you… I can't tell you why, but I really do love you, and I…I hope you love me, too."

Instead of responding in the manner Tim had hoped, Rachel placed a hand over her eyes and burst into tears. "Oh, Tim" she sobbed, "why must you tell me this now? Why couldn't you have loved me when I first loved you? That way we could've been together for at least a little while, but now…"

Realizing what she was getting at, Tim gave her a strained smile before insisting, "Rachel, it'll be alright…I might get pardoned by the governor."

"And what's the likelihood of _that_ ever happening?" Rachel bitterly spat. "Reverend Trask is well-revered by those who don't _truly_ know him, and for that reason everyone will want you to be executed!"

"Rachel…" Gently pulling her into his arms, Tim tucked her head beneath his chin as he listened to her soft sobs, his hand stroking her back as he prayed to God that he could ease her pain. He knew he was powerless to console her, but the realization that she loved him made him more determined to protect her than ever. Raising her chin so that she could meet with his eyes, he smiled weakly before revealing, "I want you to have something."

"No" Rachel sorrowfully urged, "please don't do this, Tim…handing over heirlooms means that you've given up."

"No I haven't" the teacher insisted. To her chagrin, he removed the gold band from his finger and placed it into her palm, his voice soft as he sustained, "As you know, this is my mother's ring. She gave it to me just before she died, and now I'm doing the same for you."

Rachel whimpered. "Tim, don't say that!"

Ignoring her plea, Tim intently urged, "Wear it when you think of me, for that way it can unite us in the way we weren't able to be in this life. In time I'm certain that I would've asked you to marry me, so please wear this to symbolize our halted matrimony."

"Oh, Tim" Rachel moaned, "this just isn't fair! I love you so incredibly much, but God won't even let me be with you! How can I live knowing I may never see you again?"

"Don't worry, you will – we've already had so much tragedy that we're bound to have our happy ending."

Rachel miserably shook her head. "No, Tim…the only way I could possibly have a happy ending is if I become your wife, but now I know that will never happen. As a child I dreamed of falling in love with the perfect man, but now that I have…" Trailing off, Rachel sobbed, "Oh, Tim, why can't I die with you? I already know I could never love another, so please…tell the authorities I was your accomplice!"

"Rachel, stop it!" Placing a hand over his eyes, Tim shot up from his perch and miserably shook his head. He wanted to tell her that his sacrifice would be for naught if he allowed this, but he also knew that his confession would lead to her knowing the whole truth. If she found everything out, he was well aware that she would be more determined to die with him than ever.

Feeling her small hand on his shoulder, Tim looked up in order to see her gazing back at him with soft, liquid amber eyes. "If I can't die with you" she gently began, "at least let me stay with you until your time comes."

"Rachel…"

"_Please."_

Nodding once as his affirmation, Tim pulled her fiercely into his arms and squeezed his eyes shut, for he knew he would never be with her again and wanted to commit her every contour to memory.

000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

Gasping, Nora lunged up in bed as if attached to a spring, her wide eyes darting back and forth as she searched for the noise that had disturbed her slumber. "H-hello?" she timidly squeaked. "Is somebody there? Jamison…is that you? If so, you're not being funny!"

A dark and shadowed figure emerged at the foot of Nora's bed in response, her hands flying over her mouth in order to prevent the shrill scream that longed to escape her throat. When none came, she slowly lowered her hands and stared as the figure began to beckon her forward.

Curious, and surprisingly no longer afraid, Nora abandoned her bedding and began to follow the phantasm, her small feet barely making a sound against the floorboards as she watched the figure turn into a bedroom…Reverend Trask's!

Suddenly terrified, Nora shook her head 'no', but the figure gave her yet another beckoning gesture of the hand. Whimpering, Nora found herself convinced to follow the dark being, but not without a hint of reservation. As she entered the caliginous quarters, she noticed that the figure had miraculously appeared over by Reverend Trask's nightstand.

Panicking, Nora yet again shook her head, but this time the figure beckoned her onward more forcefully. Swallowing, the poor girl tried to ignore Trask's snoring form as she crept over toward the hooded being, her eyes widening in curiosity as she realized that it wanted her to open the nightstand.

With one last frightened look in Trask's direction, Nora ever-so-slowly opened the drawer until she noticed a small object amidst some papers…a vial! Lifting the tube out of the drawer, the child gasped once she realized what it was. As a young girl Nora often liked to visit Sandor and Magda Rakosi over at the Old House, and Magda had shown her several of her special herbs. Being the curious girl that she was, Nora had picked up a vial of coppery-colored spices, to which Magda had revealed was poison. Could it be that Reverend Trask had poisoned somebody?

When Nora turned to the hooded figure for help, she discovered that it was gone…

**A/N**: Good grief, I was FINALLY able to finish this! Amidst studying for finals, writing paper after paper, and just freaking out over life in general, I couldn't get this stupid thing completed for the life of me. Thankfully there will only be ONE more chapter, and then it's over! Yay! lol

**P.S.** Anyone who knows where the title of this chapter came from gets brownie points. I already know ONE of you will know the answer, hehehe.


	9. God's Will Be Done

**CH 9: God's Will Be Done**

Judge Hackett barely even had time to put on his powdered wig when a frantic knock came at his door, his thick eyebrows drawing together as he slowly lumbered toward the source of the noise. "Yes?" he questioned rather irritably, "what is it? Do you realize it's nearly dawn?"

There came a sniffle, then a forlorn, "Please just let me in, Judge Hackett – it is most urgent that I speak with you at once."

Hurriedly obliging with the pitiful plea, Hackett opened the door and gave a start at whom he saw. "Why, Miss Trask! What is it, my child? You appear most upset!"

"Oh, I am" Charity miserably acknowledged. "In fact, you have no idea how much, Your Honor…it's why I've come to speak to you, as I'm sure you've already surmised."

Wordlessly motioning her inside, Hackett closed the door and trained his concerned gaze upon the quivering reverend's daughter. She had always been such a strong girl, but at the present she appeared as tiny and fragile as a little field mouse.

Dabbing at her cerulean eyes, Charity once more regarded the judge with her mournful gaze before revealing, "You have arrested an innocent man, Your Honor – Timothy Shaw is not the one responsible for my dear mother's death."

Judge Hackett gave a start, but believing that he knew what was troubling her, he took the girl by the arm before inquiring, "Is this because the accused is your fiancé, Miss Trask? Because I can most humbly assure you…"

"No!" Charity shrilly interrupted, "It most certainly is not! I've fallen for another man and have been meaning to break off the engagement for quite some time now."

"Then perhaps your mind is muddled by grief…"

Narrowing her eyes, Charity retrieved a leather-bound book before holding it out for the judge to see. "This is my father's diary" she coolly began, "and within its blasphemous pages lie the confessions of his filthy desires for younger women, the plans for my mother's demise, and his absolute repugnance for me as a daughter." Feeling her face contort along with her sorrow, she pitifully wailed, "Oh, I never thought him so cruel!"

"Nor so preposterously dim-witted" Hackett agreed. Taking the diary from Charity's small white hand, he sustained, "Forgive me for saying so, my dear, but I cannot believe that he'd be foolish enough to write all this down…"

"Nor to keep a vial of poison directly alongside it…Nora Collins discovered these items earlier this evening" Charity softly revealed.

Frowning, Hackett nodded once before agreeing, "Alright, Miss Trask, I shall see what I can do."

"No" she sternly interjected, "that's not nearly good enough – my father deserves nothing short of rotting in Hell for what he did to my mother!"

"Oh, but surely…"

Charity immediately shook her head. "Just see that he's taken care of, Your Honor…for my sake. For my mother's."

Pressing his lips together, Hackett nodded before ushering her to follow him out into the hallway.

000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

Grinning to himself, Trask allowed his hand to travel across a photograph of the class of 1884, his fingers pausing over the lissome form of the bright-eyed Rachel Drummond. "Don't you worry, my dear" he smugly began, "before long you and I shall be one…when young Shaw is finally disposed of, there will be no one left to stand in my way!"

As if to denounce this corrupt notion, Trask's bedroom door blew open with a bang, the reverend crying out as the shape of a dark, hooded figure materialized before his very eyes.

"Wh-who are you?" he fearfully demanded. "What do you want!?"

Wordlessly gliding into the room, the figure held out a hand as the door slammed tightly shut behind it, Trask's eyes widening as he gazed upon the spirit's palm.

"Minerva's ring!" he exclaimed, suddenly feeling quite ill. "H-how did you get that? It was on her finger when I buried her!"

A series of resounding laughter began to echo throughout the room, Trask clapping his hands over his ears as he shouted, "Be gone, you messenger of Satan! This house is filled with God's abundant love, and you shall never win against the Almighty and those who serve Him!"

The laughter suddenly stopped, the room growing eerily silent as the figure reached up in order to push away its facial coverings.

With a horrified gasp, Trask immediately dropped to his knees upon seeing its face, his palms pressing flat against the floor as he moaned, "Oh, God in Heaven, You must be deceiving me…surely You have no brought my Minerva back from the grave!"

In answer, Minerva's apparition merely smiled, Trask crawling forward on his hands and knees as he begged, "Forgive me, Minerva, for I know not what I've done! It's not my fault that you took the poison…I-I meant to warn you, because yes, I'll admit that I was angry with your constant meddling, but now I've forgiven you!" Grasping at her cloak, Trask desperately bemoaned, "Oh, Minerva – dear, _dear_ Minerva – please find it within your gentle, loving heart to forgive me…to bless me with your ever-loving kindness!"

Giving him yet another cold smile, Minerva finally spoke, "All will be forgiven, Gregory…very soon, all of those whom you have harmed shall be free."

Confused, Trask irritably demanded, "What on earth are you talking about, you foolish woman? It would seem that God has not blessed you with the knowledge you so sorely lacked on earth!"

"Goodbye, Gregory."

Evaporating before his very eyes in wisps of smoke, Minerva disappeared just as Trask came racing forward to intercept her. "Minerva?" he frantically called, _"Minerva!?_ Come back, I implore you – what did you mean by all that!?"

As if in response to his senseless shouting, the sound of heavy boots came storming down the hallway like a stampede of wild animals, Trask whirling around just in time to see several men come bursting into his room.

"I say" Trask crossly began, "what is the meaning of this? It's nearly dawn!"

"Indeed, it is" Judge Hackett agreed with an eerie smile. "It just so happens that the hanging of Minerva Trask's murderer is supposed to occur at the same time, but all we need now is the murderer."

Swallowing, Trask demanded, "What the devil are you talking about? Timothy Shaw is still in prison, is he not? Has he escaped?"

"Oh no, I didn't say we were hanging the falsely accused" Hackett coolly revealed, "I said we were hanging the _murderer."_ Holding up a small, glinting object he sustained, "We found this ring on the grounds about a half an hour ago, and after some light digging, we discovered the body of your late wife. What say you to that, sir?"

Trask paled. "W-well I'd say that's quite an extraordinary series of developments…who is your new suspect if Shaw is no longer to blame?"

Weary of the games they were playing, Hackett motioned for his men to take Trask into custody, the reverend screaming and raving about his alleged innocence as they dragged him off to his death.

000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

Wiping at her swollen eyes, Rachel continued to sit miserably inside the fort that she and Tim had made so very long ago, her hand running along their box of buried treasure with an embittered sadness that swelled from deep within. Inside were relics belonging to the man she loved, yet she found that she didn't have the heart to take them out and reminisce. Reflection meant giving up, and she had _not_ given up on Tim's being pardoned…not by a long shot.

Trembling, Rachel peeked out at the dusky sky and realized that it was nearly dawn, her eyes closing as she sought deep within herself for any shred of remaining courage. With a prayer in her heart and a song on her lips, she gently began to sing the old sea shanty that had always served her so well in times of need. Even as she sang the words an overwhelming sinking feeling began to take over, tears streaming down her cheeks in hot torrents as she began to sing louder in order to drown out her sorrow.

Just as she neared the end of the song, a shrill, nearby whistle began to harmonize with the soothing melody. With a gasp, Rachel jolted forward and went racing out of the fort in order to inspect the noise, an overjoyed sob escaping her throat the moment she spotted Tim grinning boyishly back at her in the distance.

"Miss me?" he teasingly called.

Not even bothering to reprimand him for his insensitivity, Rachel went racing forward and leapt into his arms before he even had time to prepare himself.

Staggering backward while trying to support her weight, Tim brought her mouth to his in a passionate, demanding kiss that filled them both with a sense of everlasting warmth. With his arms firmly about Rachel's waist, he then spun her around and around amidst his fervent embrace, their laughter and tears mingling as they kissed one another yet again.

"Oh, Tim" Rachel whispered, "you were right…I was _so_ foolish to not have faith in the governor's pardoning you!"

Grinning, Tim slyly agreed, "Yeah, it's really something, huh? If I recall correctly, they needed the space cleared so they could hang some religious fanatic, instead."

"No… You mean Reverend Trask…?"

Tim nodded. "Yep."

"Oh! Then that means we're finally free!" Burying her face against his neck, Rachel tearfully sighed, "Now we can go away…get married…"

"Live in that big, beautiful white house you always spoke of" Tim added with a smile. Noting her surprise, he explained, "It turns out that your rotten aunt owns your father's house now, and although I'll probably be spending the rest of my life paying off the debt, I just had to get it for you, Lady Grey. Every time you spoke of the rose garden and the ocean, you'd get this unforgettable look on your face…the kind that gave off the appearance that you were truly happy." Taking her hands in his, he fondly sustained, "I want you to be happy, Rachel…I want to give you the life you could never have at Worthington Hall."

"Oh, Tim…" Bursting into tears, she enveloped him tightly within her embrace and kissed his mouth with a fervor never before experienced. In that moment she was in love, she was happy, and as far as she was concerned, nothing could ever bring her down to the hellish depths of despair, again.

--Three Weeks Later--

"Are you kids ready to go?"

"Yes sir, Mr. Shaw!" Nora and Jamison chirped in unison. As they threw their belongings into the back of the carriage, Tim grinned over at his blushing bride as she said her goodbyes to Charity.

Needless to say, over the past few weeks quite a multitude of changes had taken place at Worthington Hall. With the agreement of Mr. and Mrs. Collins, Tim and Rachel became Nora and Jamison's foster parents, and they all planned on moving into the big white house that very day. Charity had amazingly been very enthusiastic about this plan, but ever since she became the sole owner of Worthington Hall, she had clearly changed for the better. The residents were finally smiling and eager to learn, and each day Charity seemed to grow warmer and wiser since she actually took the time to listen to the children.

With a hankie dabbing at her eyes, Charity pitifully inquired, "And you're _sure_ you won't come back? You and Timothy were our finest teachers…"

"Oh, I'll definitely write" Rachel warmly assured her. "Tim and I plan on opening up our own school in Brimston, so perhaps one day we can make some sort of collaboration."

Charity beamed. "Oh, rest assuredly! I know you both shall be a success!"

Kissing the blonde goodbye, Rachel then adjusted her white sundress and smiled as Tim offered her his hand to help her into the carriage. With a squeal, she clumsily fell into the seat alongside him and kissed his cheek, her eyes vibrant and full of mischief as she inquired, "May I drive, darling?"

Tim grinned. "Only when my arms fall off or are rendered completely useless…_sweetheart."_

Laughing, the couple warmly embraced (much to the dismay of the children), and Tim whipped the horses so that they began to trot steadily forward.

As Charity shielded her eyes and watched the carriage drift off into the sunset, a sudden feeling of emptiness began to form within her heart. Whether she liked it or not, Tim and Rachel had become a very important part of her life (as well as the school's), and she knew it would be quite hard functioning without them.

With a fervent wave in the retreating carriage's direction, Charity found herself saying goodbye to the finest people she'd ever known. Despite the sorrowful situation she couldn't help but smile, for she knew she would see them again…she'd make certain of that.

**A/N**: Yaaay, it's over! Thank you sooooo much to everyone who's stuck with me throughout this entire story – it means SO much to me! And a big thank you to Brian for all the nice compliments…I actually DO have a book that I've finished, but unfortunately I have no idea what to do with it, so collecting dust is all it's doing right now, I'm afraid. lol

Sorry for the crappy ending, but I couldn't for the LIFE of me end this…ugh, it was hard! But anywhos, Trask got his (yay!), and Rachel and Tim lived haaaappily ever after…come to think of it, this is the only happy story I've ever written! Go me!


End file.
